Lingering Darkness
by sophiesayshi
Summary: Amy Longbottom is in Hogwarts. You'd think that after nearly five years she would be properly settled in with her best friend James Potter, the son of the infamous Harry Potter. But one day everything she knows collapses. Changes. Just because of a letter
1. Firstyear

**_Hi to whoever's clicked on this! Just a quick AN:_**

**_Please read and review! Seriously, it's not as bad as the summary suggested... Well anyway. It's your choice. Freedom of speech and all. So go ahead... or not. Whichever makes you happy. :)_**

**First-year**

Amy Longbottom stared blankly at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Her light grey owl, Myst, hooted impatiently, glaring at her through the bars of her cage.

"Amy, just run," said her mother softly. "Don't be scared; you can do it!"

"Thanks, Mum," she said, then took a deep breath and began sprinting at the wall. King's Cross Station faded away as she hurtled through the barrier; in its place was a platform crowded with people, a sign saying _Hogwarts Express, Platform nine-and-three-quarters _hanging from a wall beside her. Her parents were just behind her, and, bringing up the rear were her younger brothers Geoffrey and Aaron, both of whom were whining about why _they _couldn't go to Hogwarts too.

"You're too young, boys," her father pointed out. "You can go in a few years time, when you get your letter."

"I'll bet you'll be in Ravenclaw, like Mum," Aaron told Amy, "because you're so clever."

She smiled and patted his head, bending down. "Thanks, Ron," she said. "Write to me as much as you can, okay?"

"Sure," he said happily. "I'm doing really well with my handwriting; Mum told me so!"

"_I _don't think you'll be in Ravenclaw," said nine-year-old Geoffrey, folding his arms across his chest. "I think you'll be in Gryffindor, like Dad."

"I'll tell you where I get sorted, once I know," she promised them. "See you, then." Aaron leaned up to kiss her on the cheek, but Geoffrey shrugged away when Amy looked questioningly at him.

"Oh, Amy," murmured her mother, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Neville, look after her, will you?"

"'Course I will," her father said. He looked as if he were about to say something else, but at that moment another voice cut through the air: "Luna! Neville!"

Amy turned around, and saw Ginny, her godmother, and her husband Harry, followed by James, Albus and Lily, who exclaimed happily when they caught sight of Amy and her brothers.

"Luna," Ginny said cheerfully, "I forgot it was Amy's time to go to Hogwarts as well, today. Our James is going, too."

James grinned at her from behind his heavy-laden trolley, brushing his tousled black hair out of his bright blue eyes. "Hey," he said, over the din of the crowd. "Been a long time, huh?"

"A year's not _that _long," scoffed Amy. Then her expression softened. "I missed you guys when I was gone. Rose and Hugo, too. But I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other in the years to come, what with us being family friends and all."

"Not if you're in Slytherin!" came James' reply. They laughed together, and it was like the past year had never happened.

The time to say goodbye came all too quickly. Her mum stood with Harry, Ginny, Aaron, Geoffrey, Albus and Lily, all of whom- except for Harry, Geoffrey and Albus- were sniffling slightly. Her father kissed Luna and his sons each in turn, then looked back at James and Amy.

"Let's go," he said, and led them into the scarlet train, its bell ringing for departure. "Get into one of the compartments early, that's the trick," he said with a wink, "otherwise you might find yourselves huddled in with the wrong crowd!"

"Slytherins," said James under his breath, and her father chuckled.

"Well, I can't agree with that, seeing that I'm a teacher," he said, "but Slytherins are a rough bunch of people; I wouldn't personally find myself trusting them."

He left with a wink, and James gestured towards the nearest empty compartment. "Want to go in here?" he asked, and Amy nodded.

They settled down on the seats, after hoisting their suitcases up onto the top railings, and Amy reluctantly let Myst be taken away to be stored with the other owls.

"Nice owl you've got," James commented, as Myst was carried away in her cage. "Is that the one you were telling me about?"

"Yes," said Amy. "Her name's Myst. I bought her in Berlin when we went there- the shopkeeper was rather glad to be rid of her because she couldn't understand German, only English- and she's brilliant. Delivered twelve letters already!" she finished proudly. "What about you? I thought you said something about a cat…"

"Crookshanks- remember Aunt Hermione's cat?- had kittens, and she gave me one. Look." He pulled open his jacket to reveal a slender young cat, dark brown except for the ginger streak down its throat. With a _meow_, it bounded into Amy's lap, and she stroked it gently. "He's called Sparkerwell. That's what the doofus Hugo called him anyway, and I decided to keep it. Spark for short, though."

"Hugo's not a doofus," Amy said. He raised an eyebrow.

"Has Amy got the hots for Hugo Weasley?" James declared, and she reached out to slap him lightly across the elbow.

"He's Albus and Geoffrey's age, you dimwit," Amy said, laughing. "He's nine!"

"Scandal," James breathed, and Amy chuckled again.

"I got my wand in Diagon Alley, though," Amy said, once she had caught her breath. "Ollivander gave me this one. Ten and a half inches, Renemell petal and willow." She took out a light brown, slightly silvery wand and showed James.

"Nice. _Renemell petal_; I heard they were really rare." He whistled, fumbling for his own wand. "Got it here somewhere….Aha!" He pulled out a reddish brown wand. "Ollivander gave me this one, like yours. Eleven inches, mahongany and dragon heartstring."

"It's so pretty…" Amy breathed.

"Hogwarts," James stated. "I still can't really get myself to believe it. It's all finally, really true."

But before Amy could answer, there was a clatter as the door burst open. A girl she recognized from the platform was standing there, sixth or seventh year, Amy guessed.

"Oh, good, it's you!" she said, looking relieved. "I'm Joanna Spencer, Gryffindor seventh year. I have a favour to ask of you." Amy nodded, confused. "Please, _please_ could you tell your dad- Professor Longbottom, right?- that my Quiverroot was killed when…oh, just make up something, please? I'm begging you…" she trailed off, waiting for Amy's response. James kicked her to shake her out of her stupor. _A seventh year is speaking to me!_ Amy thought ecstatically._ And she's in _Gryffindor_!_

"Sure," Amy stuttered. "I'll…I'll do it."

"Thanks!" piped the seventh year, and she sped off, away from their compartment. James looked at Amy a little enviously.

"What?" Amy said innocently, as he continued to glare at her.

"That was _Joanna Spencer_, you numbskull," he hissed. "Joanna _Spencer_!"

"Yes," Amy replied, "I know."

"She's Gryffindor Quidditch captain! The first female Gryffindor captain! You could've at least introduced me to her!" James yelled. "That was my only chance…"

"To what? To outshine everyone in Quidditch? You're brilliant, James, it runs in your blood. Your father and grandfather were both seekers, weren't they? Don't worry about it; of course she'll put you in the team! And you're famous," she added as an afterthought.

He still glowered at her. "I'm only famous because of my dad."

"Well, not for long," Amy teased. "Soon you'll be either the mockery and laughing stock of the whole school, or you'll be an unbeatable Quidditch star!"

He smiled. "Thanks, Ames."

"No problem." She beamed, relieved that he wasn't angry at her anymore. "We should start getting changed, you know," she quickly told him, as she saw that the people who were walking past their compartment were all wearing dark Hogwarts robes. James nodded, and they left the compartment, hurriedly changing into their robes before going back. By then, they could already see the school looming in the distance, the grey turrets scraping the sky.

"Hogwarts, look!" Amy said excitedly to James.

"I know, I can see it," James said in awed voice. "It's so _big_."

They sat there for a while, not speaking, just staring at the massive castle-like buildings, which were growing darker by the minute in the nightfall. Then a magnified voice echoed through the train, telling them that they would reach Hogwarts soon, and, with one last look through the window, they rushed outside to join the mass of students in the corridor. Then the train shuddered, and lurched to a stop. James squeezed her hand, and smiled.

"It'll be alright," he said comfortingly, at Amy's evidently terrified face.

"S-sure," she managed to blurt out. "Oh, what if I'm in the wrong house? What if I do really badly? What if they don't like-"

"Shut up, Amy," said James, laughing. "Of course they'll like you; who _wouldn't_? And your dad's a Professor, so you've probably got his brains."

"Okay," she whispered, her heartbeat staggering to a high, irregular beat as the students began to find their way out into the cool night air.

"_Firs'- years!" _came a loud gruff voice. "Firs'-years, come on, follow me!" Amy looked up at the man who was speaking, and her neck craned with the effort. He was huge, with a bushy greying beard, and black hair. He grinned at them. "Gawd, _you're _Harry an' Ginny's son, James, is that righ'?" he asked James.

"Yeah, that's me," said James uneasily. "And you must be Hagrid; I've heard loads about you."

Hagrid laughed, and turned to face Amy. "An' you're Neville an' Luna's kid. Betcha yeh'll both be in Gryffindor, like yer parents!" he bellowed cheerfully.

"Um…yes," Amy said, her voice barely a breath. "But my mother was a Ravenclaw…"

"Firs'-years, follow me!" Hagrid began shouting again, and they followed him down a slippery narrow slope to the edge of a lake, where there were thirty or so boats bobbing. "Four or less to a boat! Ready? Okay, _forward_!"

The boats began to move all in unison, and Amy gazed up at the castle ahead, lights glimmering through the windows like miniature stars in the blackness around it.

"You know," said James in a quiet undertone, "I've heard there's a giant squid in the lake. My dad told me so."

Amy resisted the urge to pull her hands away from the edge of the boat, before smiling broadly at James. "I don't care. It can't be all that dangerous, since we're crossing the lake. If it were, then I'm sure the school wouldn't allow it."

James looked awestruck. "You're _not _afraid?" he asked. "Amy Longbottom _not _afraid?"

"Why should I be?" Amy retorted angrily, and she was hushed by all sides from the people around their boat.

"All off now!" shouted Hagrid, and they clambered onto dry land. Hagrid smiled at the crowd of huddled First-years, then knocked three times on the castle door.

A slender woman wearing pale blue robes answered the door, her hazel hair scraped rather untidily back under a tall black pointed hat. She looked briefly down at them, smiled, then nodded to Hagrid.

"First-years, if you would follow me," she said, and Hagrid urged them on. Amy moved closer to James as they went through the massive Entrance Hall, then took a quick left to an empty room, where they filed in, silent and terrified.

The woman turned to face them. "I'm Professor Johnson, your flying teacher while Madam Hooch is ill…" She shook her head, swallowed, and went on. "Professor McGonnagall is attending to her at the moment with Madam Pomfrey, so I have been assigned to take you into the Great Hall."

"Are you, by any chance, _Angelina _Johnson, Professor?" James asked, and Amy glared at him. The teacher beamed.

"Yes, how do you know?" she asked.

"I'm James Potter; my dad told me you were once his captain," James replied.

"Brilliant seeker, he was," Professor Johnson said, then faced the crowd of first-years again. "Welcome to Hogwarts. Before you sit down, though, there will be the Sorting Ceremony-"

"I've heard about this," James hissed to Amy.

"-where the Sorting hat will decide which house to put you in. While you are at Hogwarts, your house is like your family, your support, your _home_, so this is very important. I take it you know what the four houses are? Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw."

She continued, talking about house points and the house cup, but Amy was no longer really listening. But when the double doors opened wide, and they filed in in a sort of orderly line, Amy gulped nervously. What if, despite all of James' reassurances, she was in Slytherin? Her parents would hate that, especially her father…

They walked into the hall, staring, speechless, around them. At last Professor Johnson came to a stop, and took a worn old hat from a woman she recognized was Professor McGonnagall, flustered and crying softly in her seat. Professor Johnson inclined her head, and Professor McGonnagall gave a short nod.

"Oh…" she heard Professor Johnson whisper, then she placed the hat on a stool.

Every head in the Great Hall was turned towards the hat, as if waiting for something. She knew what was about to happen. Her parents had told her all about how the Sorting Hat would sing, but when it happened, it came as a bigger surprise to her than she had thought.

After the applause in the Hall had died down, Professor Johnson stepped forwards, holding a sheet of parchment in shaking hands, tears glinting in her eyes. Amy wondered what was wrong.

"Almer Grace," she said, and a tiny flaxen-haired girl walked forwards to put the hat on her head.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" bellowed the hat, and she ran off, smiling.

Amy looked up as her father stood up and took the parchment from Professor Johnson, who went to sit beside a- she gasped at this- centaur, crying silently, but openly, now. It seemed that nobody else had noticed them amidst the excitement of the sorting.

One by one, people were called out, and suddenly, James was prodding her, looking at her expectantly. Blushing furiously, she staggered up to the stool and placed the hat on her head.

After a long second, the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" and Amy happily made for the Gryffindor table, looking back at James' wide grin, and her father's wink.

James was made a Gryffindor as well, and so were Monica and Brooke Hayweather- twins, though Monica was taller, with cropped strawberry blonde hair, and Brooke had longer, honey blonde hair. Two more- a _'Furnell, Connor'_ and a _'Morrison, Declan'_ were also declared Gryffindors.

She quickly stole a glance back up at the teacher's table, and saw that Professor McGonnagall was whispering to the two teachers on either side of her- deputies, she guessed. Then she stood up slowly, and addressed the school.

"The start of a new year," she said, and by now everyone had seen the tears streaking their way down her cheeks. "Welcome! Before the banquet begins, I should like to say a few things. Firstly, I would like to announce that Professor Johnson, former Gryffindor Quidditch captain is staying permanently to be our flying teacher. Congratulations!" There was more applause, then she carried on. "And secondly, I would like to announce the sad loss of Madam Hooch, our former flying teach-" She broke off and sat down, looking vacantly at the goblet before her. The elderly man on her left stood up.

"To Madam Hooch!" he said loudly, and there were echoes of "_Madam Hooch!"_ across the hall. Professor McGonnagall clapped her hands softly, and there was suddenly food before everyone, and a painting of Madam Hooch blossomed on the wall next to other past teachers. She was sobbing quietly, clutching a broomstick next to her.

"Thank you, Hogwarts!" she called out. "Thank you; _all _of you!"

Everyone was silent as she spoke, wishing good luck to Angelina- Professor Johnson- who promptly hid her face in her napkin, shoulders shaking, and did not touch her meal once. There were tears in everyone's eyes, save the confused first-years, and Madam Hooch addressed them last.

"I taught many of your parents," she said, and her eyes lingered briefly on James, then, with a slightly pained look, on Amy. "May you all do your best in flying, and I shall hope that some of you will become exceptional at Quidditch. But, most of all, I wish for your sake that you enjoy not just the sport, but the exhilaration, the adrenaline, the team effort of the game. I'm sorry that I never managed to teach you, but I'm sure that Angelina will easily match me. Be good to her. _Thank you_."

* * *

**_So... was it good enough for you to review? If so, the little green button's just here, just waiting to be pressed. I can practically hear it ASKING you now..._**

**_I promise the next chapter will be up soon, and better. This was just a bit of a prologue, scene-setter kind of thing. But I do need a few reviews to persuade me..._**


	2. Dispute

**Dispute**

_**Five years later**_

Aaron clutched the bottom of Amy's shirt, looking straight into her eyes.

"I've g-got a detention," he said tearfully. "This Saturday at eight o'clock with Professor Dewmont. And it's only my _first _year!"

She laughed softly. "Don't worry, Ron, it's not that big a deal," she told him. "You wouldn't be _normal_ without a few detentions on your record."

"Really?" He smiled. "Thanks."

"Are you doing it alone?" Amy asked.

"No, I'm doing it with Louie," he replied.

"It's about time you two got into trouble!" she said teasingly, folding her arms across her chest. "What did you do?"

"We- uh- threw a Burpsie…or two at Turvulus Malfoy and his brother," he muttered, dropping his gaze.

"A _Burpsie_?" Amy yelled. "At Turvulus and Scorpius _Malfoy_? Aaron, Turvulus is in _my _year and Scorpius is in Geoff's! Do you know what they could've done to you? You'd be in the hospital wing before you could even say _Hogwarts._"

"It was pretty funny, though," Aaron said with a small smile. "Hugo gave us the Burpsies from Uncle George, and they actually did burp…they were really loud, too. And smelly. That was before they, er, exploded, though."

"_Exploded?_" Amy shrieked. "I'm glad they didn't kick you out! I would've!" She stopped suddenly as Spark ran up to her and tugged at the bottom of her robes, amber eyes gleaming. "What is it?" she asked, annoyed, but he just tugged harder.

"I think he wants you to go with him," Aaron said, sounding relieved. She stood up, and sure enough, Spark ran for the doorway. She was hot on his heels.

They raced down the corridors, down the flights of moving stairs, and out into the cold winter air. Spark turned a sharp corner, and Amy struggled to keep up, wondering why on earth James' cat had fetched her.

Finally he stopped, and gestured, with a tilt of his head, towards where she saw a crowd of students yelling and waving their fists in the air. She picked up her pace, scooped up Spark, and forced her way through the throng of excited students. Turvulus and Scorpius Malfoy were there, wands out and pointing at Geoffrey, her younger brother, now a third year, and James. Both of them were clutching their wands too, determined expressions on their faces.

"What's the matter, Longbottom?" sneered Turvulus. "Need Potter to stand up for what you've done, because your lovely sister isn't here?"

"It wasn't _me_!" Geoffrey shot back, trembling slightly.

"Oh yes," Malfoy continued in a smooth voice. "It was your _brother, _wasn't it? Can't tell the two of you apart for myself; you seem exactly the same. Ugly and poor."

"_Aguamenti_!" Geoffrey roared, and a jet of water burst out of his wand.

"_Protego_," said Malfoy with a cold smile, and the water stopped in mid-air, before vanishing.

"James, Geoffrey, what's going on?" Amy said, stepping forwards. She glared at the Malfoy brothers. "You're going around picking on other people, when you can't even defend yourselves from two first-years," she scoffed at them. "What did you do to land them detention? Run up to Dewmont and _beg_?" This was followed by cheers of support from some of the crowd. Half of them were Slytherins, though, so she didn't complain.

"We had this all covered, you know," James hissed, as she walked over to them, pulling her wand out of her pocket.

"Yeah, James," she said, smiling slightly. "Sure." She flicked her wrist, and a beam of light burst out of her wand as she shouted, "_Expelliarmus!_"

Scorpius' wand was blasted out of his hand, but Turvulus caught it and handed it back to him.

"Get out of the way, Longbottom," he said angrily. "This is between the scum of Gryffindor and us."

"I'm in Gryffindor, too," she said stiffly. "And if they're scum, what're you? The dirt that _contaminates _the scum?"

Geoffrey laughed, as did half of the crowd. "Go get 'em, sis," he quipped. "Show them what you're made of!"

James stepped forwards, and shouted, "_Petrificus Totalus!"_ Scorpius fell to the floor, frozen completely still by the full Body Bind.

"Nice one," Amy whispered, and he grinned.

"Take your brother and get out of here, Malfoy," she snarled, and he glowered at them. "This is over."

"It's _not _over," Malfoy retorted angrily.

"Just leave, Malfoy," James snapped. "You're going to make an idiot out of yourself. Not that you aren't already."

"Potter, Longbottom, meet me at midnight tonight in the empty classroom by the staircase on the fifth floor," he spat. "We're duelling."

"Great." Amy snapped back. "See you there, then."

"Not _you_," said Malfoy. "Potter and your brother."

"No. I'm coming whether you like it or not. Geoffrey's not having any part in this. He's too young."

"I'm _not!_" Geoffrey hissed, but she pushed him away.

"Too young, is he?" Malfoy smirked. "If I remember correctly, he's a third-year, like Scorpius. If you don't think your brother is capable…?"

"No. He could take the two of you on and win with one arm tied behind his back," Amy said. "But I just don't want him to get caught, and landed detention because of you, like Aaron."

"Fine," snarled Malfoy. "So be it. Midnight in the classroom. And Scorpius won't be there, either. It's strictly a fifth-year duel. I'll bring along someone." He looked at the mass of spectators around them, raising his voice. "And you can all come too, providing you can get there without attracting any unnecessary attention."

So saying, he gave them one last smirk and used _"Wingardium Leviosa!" _to take his brother away, towards the hospital wing.

"Thanks a _lot_, Amy," Geoffrey sniffed. "Too young?"

"Yeah, you are," said James. Then he turned to her. "Duel, huh? I'll wait for you in the Common Room tonight with the Invisibility Cloak, then."

Amy gawped at him. "Your dad _finally _gave you the cloak?"

"Yes, _finally_," he replied, smiling.

* * *

Amy crept out of bed at twenty to twelve, followed eagerly by everyone in her dorm. She slipped away from them, and tiptoed into the Common Room, where James was waiting, the cloak in his hand. He smiled when he saw her, and came over to her.

"I've been waiting for you for ages!" he said, and flung the cloak around her, before they snuck out of the common room, slipping past the still-crackling fireplace. "I still can't believe you're actually doing this," he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief.

She stared at him. "Why not?"

"Well, you know," he replied. "You're Amy _Longbottom!"_

"What do you mean?" she asked, suddenly angry.

"D'you remember two years ago? When we were third-years?" he said. "In Defence Against the Dark Arts? With the Red-Caps?"

She didn't answer. She knew what was coming next, and even the memory of it made her wince in embarrassment.

"You ran out of the room!" James whispered, grinning. "It was bloody-"

"Just leave it, all right?" she hissed back. "They were just really…I don't know…ugly?"

"You see what I mean?" James continued. "You're not the girl you used to be. You've changed a heck of a lot."

Despite what he had just said before, this made her smile. "Thanks."

"And I think you've changed for the better," James carried on. "Sometimes."

She glowered at him. _"Sometimes?"_

"It gets kind of annoying, sometimes," he said with a little shrug. "My best friend standing up for everyone and all."

Amy smirked. "Ha! It's because _you _don't get the limelight all the time, right?"

"Nah," James whispered. "Not at all."

His gaze was fixed on hers, and suddenly Amy found it hard to tear her eyes away. Her heart skipped a beat. _What's going on? This can't be…this isn't happening…we're best friends, not…not anything else. _Their hands brushed underneath the cloak for a second, and both of them looked away. The moment was over, and, although Amy's breath was still somewhat ragged, James grinned at her. It seemed to her that he had forgotten entirely about what just happened…or had it been just her who had felt something? She brushed it away. _No. I didn't feel anything._

"I think we're here," he said, shaking her out of her stupor. "Ready?"

She couldn't help but bite her lip. "You know, James?"

"Yeah?" he said.

"I really don't think I _have _changed," she answered.

He patted her shoulder comfortingly. "Seriously, Amy. You'll do great. You always do. So don't worry."

At last they had reached the empty classroom that Malfoy had mentioned, though by now it was hardly empty. Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, Slytherins and Gryffindors of all ages stood there in the moonlight, and they began to whisper excitedly as James pulled the cloak off them.

"Malfoy," growled James. "We're here."

Amy took a deep breath, and took a step forwards so she now stood beside him, gritting her teeth.

"Good, good." Turvulus Malfoy came out from behind them, followed by Crystal Marmingston, a cunning Slytherin fifth-year who Amy knew from class. "Have you met Crystal? I thought, since you were bringing a _girl _along, Potter, that I should do the same."

Amy looked over at James, and saw that his jaw was taut, his lips twisted in a scowl. "Let's just get this over with, Malfoy," he snarled.

"Oh no," Malfoy continued with a sick smile. "I really don't want to 'just get it over with.' That would just ruin the fun of it, Potter."

She shook her head, and smiled sweetly back. "Malfoy, the only people that'll be having fun tonight will be _us, _when you and your little girlfriend go running back to Slytherin sobbing your guts out." James shot her an encouraging nod. "So why delay _our_ fun? Let's start."

Malfoy' lip twitched furiously, but when he answered, he answered smoothly. "It's nice to see you two Gryffindors trying _so _hard to be courageous. When we're running back to Slytherin sobbing our guts out, we'll be crying with _laughter. _Because you two will have lost miserably."

"Why don't you just stop talking," Amy intervened. "Stop trying to talk your way into winning this. Because, if you haven't noticed, Malfoy, we're here to _duel. _Not to have a _chat._"

Malfoy looked her up and down, then suddenly stared somewhere behind her, his eyes filled with horror. "Oh God!" he squealed in a high-pitched voice. "A Red-Cap! It's going to _kill _me! Someone save me before I run out of the room! Oh, my darling _James_, can _you_ save me? Because you're such a hero, James!"

Amy stiffened. James scowled angrily beside her. "Amy's right, Malfoy," he snarled. "You're talking too much. Let's duel."

"Fine, Potter. If you're in such a hurry to lose, then why don't I show you what you did to my brother earlier today? _Petrificus Totalus!" _he bellowed, pointing his wand at James.

"_Protego!" _James said quickly, and a shield appeared in front of him, blocking the spell. Amy relaxed slightly next to him.

Crystal made the next move. _"Wingardium Leviosa!" _she screeched, and suddenly Amy felt herself lurch into the air, limbs flailing.

"James!" she yelled. "James, get me down from here!"

"Oh, _James," _Malfoy echoed down below me, fluttering a hand to his heart, and sniggering. The other Slytherins in the room were howling with laughter. "James, get me down from here!"

"Don't you _dare-_" James began, ignoring Malfoy, but Crystal shot him a smile, her lip curled upwards.

"Oh, you want me to stop, do you?" she asked innocently. _"Of course."_ Crystal flicked her wand away from Amy, and she felt herself falling. An instant later, she came crashing down onto the floor, all the breath leaving her lungs in one gasp as a terrible pain seared down her leg. It was broken.

"Amy!" James cried, and yelled, _"Incarcerous"_

Malfoy dodged, but the spell hit Crystal squarely in the chest, and suddenly there was a thick rope coiling itself around her, and she swore angrily at James, trying to shake it off. She crumpled onto the floor as her legs were bound together, and as she let out a shriek, the rope snuck around her lips. She mumbled in protest, trying to free herself, but the more she struggled, the more its grip tightened around her.

"You think you can get away with that, Potter?" hissed Malfoy, as he looked with distaste at Crystal, flailing around on the floor, tightly bound. _"Tristus!"_

Fat tears began pouring down James' face, blurring his vision, and he started throwing hexes and jinxes in all directions. The crowd around them screamed at him to stop as even they had to dodge his spells, and use _protego _to block them. Amy reached out for her wand, dragging her useless leg behind her, and her fingers closed around it.

"_Finite Incantantem!" _she shouted, and tears ceased to run down his face. The room was flooded with silence. Then, turning her wand to Malfoy, she yelled _"Stup-"_

"_Impedimenta!" _roared Malfoy. Amy thrust out her hand to push James aside, but the jinx found its way past him, to her. It hit her at point-blank range, and it felt as though she had slammed into something, hard. Amy gave a howl of agony as she felt her leg snap again beneath her, and thought she heard James shout her name. Her eyelids suddenly seemed so heavy, and as they fell shut, she heard the door burst open and Professor McGonagall's voice break through the night, crisp and livid.

"What on _earth _is going on here?"

She didn't hear anything more. Not Malfoy' harried explanations, his blaming her and James; not Crystal's harsh breathing and mutter of thanks as Professor McGonagall made the rope disappear; not the crowd, hurriedly filing out of the room, sprinting away to their dormitories; and not James' yelling her name, over and over again…

* * *

Amy woke in the hospital wing, to her brothers sitting on the edge of her bed, chatting loudly about the duel.

"Hey, you two," she said softly, and they turned to face her.

"You're awake!" beamed Aaron, hugging her. "Finally!"

"What happened to James?" Amy asked worriedly. "What did McGonagall do?"

"She freed Marmingston of the ropes, but you're better off than James and Malfoy. Honestly. They've got detentions every Tuesday, Thursday _and_ Friday evening until we break up for Christmas! You've only got this Friday at eight after your leg heals," Geoffrey told her, trying to be as light-hearted as he could.

"Did McGonnagall take any points off?" Amy asked, groaning as she tried to sit up. "I'm sure she did, but how many…?" She trailed off at Geoffrey's stricken expression. "Was it _that much?_"

"Well, er…" He mumbled something incomprehensible.

"Geoff, please," she said. "Just tell me."

He looked up at her. "Amy, she took seventy points off-"

"_Seventy?" _Amy burst out.

"-Each," he finished.

"But that's…that means…"

"We're one hundred and forty points down," Geoffrey said.

"Is everyone… angry?" she asked lamely.

"Not _that _angry," Geoffrey said, but his expression gave it away, and she groaned again. He quickly added, "But at least Slytherin are one hundred and _sixty_ points down. They got eighty each, for what they did to you."

"But still…" she mumbled.

"It's my fault," Aaron said tearfully. "If I hadn't shown Louie those Burpsies, we wouldn't have thrown them at the Malfoy brothers, and you wouldn't have gone to duel them."

"No," she said comfortingly. "No, it's definitely not your fault. It's that foul Malfoy's fault."

Geoffrey nodded enthusiastically. "_Everyone's _talking about it, you know."

"Yeah, I bet," she said. "What did Madam Pomfrey say about my leg?"

"Broken in two places. One's an open fracture, which is when the bone actually comes _out _of your skin," Aaron said, making a disgusted face. "It's healing though. Madam Pomfrey said you'd be out of the hospital wing in two days, no less, no more."

"Two days, then detention every Friday, eight o'clock. That's all I have to look forward to," Amy said sarcastically, and Geoffrey grinned.

"Dad's got a lesson right now, but he said he would be up as soon as he could," he said.

She groaned. "_Dad's _coming up?"

"Yeah. Rose, Hugo, Albus, Lily and all of the Gryffindor fifth-years came up as well. James left just before you woke up," Aaron said. "They were all really worried."

Her heart skipped a beat. "James?" she asked. "How is he? Is he all right? He's not hurt, is he?"

Geoffrey and Aaron stared at her.

"Um," said Aaron, "The last time I saw him, he was playing wizard's chess with Declan and Connor in their dorm."

"Oh, right," Amy said.

"No, I saw him as well," Geoffrey said. "He was stomping out of Gryffindor as I went in, a half hour or so ago."

Amy frowned. "Why?"

"I don't know. Said he had to go and do something…" he trailed off as Professor Johnson came in, supporting Turvulus Malfoy using a levitating spell. His arms were swollen and massive, popped away from the sockets, and blood trickled down his elbows. Madam Pomfrey came hurrying up, and together, Professor Johnson and her laid Malfoy down onto the bed next to Amy's. Shooting Malfoy a dirty look, Geoffrey and Aaron left.

"Dear me," Madam Pomfrey fussed. "More accidents! A swelling hex, was it?"

"Yes," said Malfoy bitterly. "I wasn't looking. The idiot crept up behind me."

Madam Pomfrey smiled benignly, and placed a mug full of something steaming on his bedside table. She tapped her wand against it, then nodded. "There! You should be fine by this evening."

"It looks disgusting," Malfoy snapped back, and Madam Pomfrey looked ungratefully at him, then walked away.

"What happened to _you_, Malfoy?" Amy hissed.

"Your boyfriend Potter snuck up on me and hexed me," he grumbled.

"Good for him!" Amy grinned, triumphant, ignoring the way he used the word _boyfriend _to describe James. "You look awful."

He glared at her. "Stuck for a day with a Gryffindor idiot isn't going to help my recovery," he snarled.

"At least I'm not a foul, self-centred Slytherin!" she shot back.

"You know, my father told me that they used to call your mother _Loony _Lovegood, and your father was _always _bottom of the class," Malfoy sneered. "It's a shame they had to pollute the world with their offspring. One would've been enough, but _three?"_

Amy shook with fury. "My father, if you must know, got two outstandings in his NEWTS: Herbology and Defence Against the Dark Arts. _And _he's a Professor here."

"Only two?" Malfoy snickered. "_My _father got-"

"Spare me the details, Malfoy," she said. "I know that your entire family is one slimy bunch of people who have the nerve to call themselves witches and wizards. I don't need to know how many NEWTS your father got. Either way, it's probably wrong. I'd bet five Galleons that he _bought _his way into getting his NEWT marks."

"I'd bet even more that you don't even _have _that sort of money," Malfoy scorned. "Or are your family going to have to go hungry for a month for that?"

"You know, Malfoy, you really are a-"

"You have a visitor, Miss. Longbottom!" Madam Pomfrey called out suddenly, cutting her short, and a moment later James came hurrying up to her.

"Amy, they said you were awake! I just left for a moment, and…and…" He stopped, his gaze falling on Malfoy, who was reaching for his wand. "He's _next _to you?"

"Nice trick you pulled on him," Amy complimented. "A swelling hex- genius."

James beamed. "Thanks. You should've seen the look on his face."

"You'll be sorry, Potter," Malfoy said frostily. _"Confrin-"_

"_Expelliarmus!" _Amy shouted, and though her wand was on the desk next to her, an arm's width away, Malfoy froze. Madam Pomfrey came hurrying up, and glowered at him.

"If you two are not going to get on, I will _move _you," she threatened.

"Oh, please do," Malfoy sneered, and stood up himself to walk across to another bed. "This one, if you don't mind. It's the furthest away." Madam Pomfrey looked furious at his cheek, but nevertheless, moved all of his things to his new bed with a flick of her wand.

"Nicely done," Amy said to Madam Pomfrey, but she pretended not to hear, and stalked away.

"I'm really sorry that I didn't stop you from falling last night," James said quietly, after a moment's pause. "I could've done it easily, but I just let you fall…"

"Don't worry about it," I told him. "It was Crystal's fault, not yours."

"_You_ helped me when Malfoy used that jinx," James continued in a stricken voice. "And the tears. You stopped the tears."

"Well, I couldn't have the two of us in this blasted hospital wing," she said, forcing a laugh.

"Amy…" James said, irritated. "I'm just trying to say sorry for not helping you."

"James, I'll be better in two days. It's fine."

"But Ames-"

"I accept your apology!" Amy said, trying not to laugh now. "Will you please drop it?"

"Fine," said James frostily. "I will."

Amy sighed. "Oh, James, don't be like that."

"Like _what_?" James shot back. "I dropped it, fine; there's no need for you to be so cross anymore."

Amy felt her temper rise, and she burst out, "You're always like that! You think you can get away with anything, pretending it's a laugh or something, but whenever anyone does the same to _you, _you become so bloody angry!" She pointed a shaking finger at him, her eyes wild with fury. "And then you hate being the _famous_ Harry Potter's son, because you don't-"

"_Don't _bring my dad into this," he snarled.

"Oh, shut up, James! What about your mother? Harry and Ron were best friends when your mum and dad started going out! That's so _sick _I don't know how Uncle Ron could've put up with it!"

"What about _your _parents, huh?" James was quick to retort, clutching the blanket over me in fistfuls. "Neville Long_bottom_ the stupid idiot, and _Loony_ Lovegood. It's no wonder they got together, oddballs that they are!"

"My parents are perfectly fine," she hissed.

"And you're the complete opposite of them!" James roared, eyes blazing. "Neville and Luna were dreamy and stupid, and you- _you're _annoyingly smart and quick-tempered and-"

"_Smart?" _Amy echoed sarcastically. "Oh, I think you're mistaken, James. The only person who's got brilliant marksaround here is you. And that's because you've got everyone doing your work _for _you, since you're too lazy to do it yourself!"

"Lazy, am I?" James snarled. "Look who's the one who's never done any exercise since the day she fell off a broomstick?"

"I _have_, actually," she yelled. "I have, I have, I _have_!"

He snickered. "In class, you mean? Or when you have to perform a spell? Is that what you call exercise, Amy? Moving your wand?"

"Get out," she said coldly.

"No," he replied, grinning tauntingly.

"Get out," she repeated.

"_No," _he said.

Furious, Amy sat bolt upright, feeling her leg erupt in pain, and snatched her wand off the desk, holding it out before her. James flinched. It took him only a moment to regain his calm, but he was no longer laughing.

"You wouldn't," he said, rolling his eyes. "You've broken your leg in two places, and you don't hate me _that _much. What was it that upset you anyway? Your idiot parents comment?"

"_Bombarda!" _Amy shouted, drowning out his voice.

There was a burst of orange light, and James shot backwards, crashing through the wall of the hospital wing and through the corridor outside. She heard him cry out, and then she dropped her wand. A horrible realisation crept up on her.

She had just used magic- hurtful, bad magic- on her best friend.

She collapsed back on her bed, and stared unblinkingly up at the ceiling. Tears threatened at the back of her eyes. _What did I just do?_ She rolled over to her side, and saw Malfoy, laughing at her, though his eyes were wide in shock. She grabbed something- she had no idea what- from her bedside table, and threw it at him. Paying no attention to his cries of anger, she buried her face into her pillow. _This is such a disaster, _she thought. _I just…I just…_

"Miss. Longbottom, visitor for you!" called Madam Pomfrey.

Amy closed her eyes, willing it to be James, so she could just apologize. _Please, please, please_ _forgive me_, she thought, squeezing her eyelids as far as they would go. She heard footsteps, and gingerly opened her eyes. Her heart fell, but somehow she felt relieved all the same. It wasn't James.

It was her father.

"Amy, I heard you broke your- oh, dear God," he said.

She looked up at him staring, horrified, at her elevated leg, and burst out crying. Her father's eyebrows furrowed uncertainly, but he sat down on the edge of her bed, wondering what on earth had made his daughter cry.

"Amy, what's wrong?" he asked softly.

"Oh, dad," she sobbed, throwing her arms around him. "What's wrong with me?"


	3. Letters and love

**_So... chappie number three. Read on, readers!_**

**Letters and Love**

Madam Pomfrey let Amy return to her dorm two days later, an hour or so after everyone had had dinner. At first, she had thought that she might need to limp, but her leg was completely fixed, and the broken bones were fused perfectly back together.

"Amy!" Geoffrey called, looking up from his game of Wizard's Chess. "You're better!"

She forced a smile. "Yeah. Did you miss me?"

He beamed, then his glance flickered across to the other third-years, who were looking slightly bemused. Geoffrey shrugged. "Er, sure," he said. "Oh, you'd better go up to your dorm. Monica told me to tell you that they couldn't wait to have you back, or something."

She was halfway up the stairs, when there was a flap of wings, and a tawny, ragged-looking owl landed onto her shoulder, a scroll of paper hanging off its leg. She pulled the scroll from it, and inclined her head to show that the owl could go.

"Thanks," Amy said, blowing the already retreating owl a kiss, then opened the letter.

_Miss Longbottom,_

_I have something of yours you might want back. It is something of great value. In return, there is something that you must give me. I can see that you may not want to corporate, but if not, then your precious little…belonging will never come back._

_The item in question is a certain map. It belongs to your friend James Potter's father, Harry. To the unsuspecting eye, it looks like a plain piece of parchment, slightly yellowed with age. However, it is extremely important that I come to own this, and I need you to steal it. Harry Potter will, no doubt, keep it close, or perhaps locked up somewhere. If you must know what it is called, I shall tell you. It is called The Marauders Map. _

_If you are willing, come to room 38 in The Hog's Head. I'll be waiting. But, of course, there is a time limit. If you are not here by midnight of the seventh of January, with then I will get rid of your property and come to Hogwarts myself. I am sure neither of us do not want to let it come to that._

_Sincerely,_

_X._

She felt sick. What on earth could _X _want her for? And…what was the property he/her had mentioned? In her mind she did a quick calculation. It was the seventeenth of December. The Christmas holidays started in four days. They ended on the fifth. Then she had two days to, if she was willing, go and meet this person.

"But he wants me to steal something from James' father," she muttered to herself. "I can't. If I stole something from Uncle Harry-" She called him that, regardless of the fact that he wasn't really a blood relation, just like her parents told her to call all of their closest friends their uncles and aunts: Uncle Harry, Uncle Ron, Uncle George, Aunt Hermione and Aunt Ginny to name but a few. "-James would never speak to me again. Mum and Dad would kill me. And Uncle Harry would…" Deep down, she knew that he would probably forgive her. And that was what made her feel so guilty, even though she hadn't done anything…yet. "I can't. I _won't. _Whatever this X person has taken of mine can't be as important as my stealing something from Uncle Harry. I won't."

But still, she felt that she had to figure out what exactly had been taken from her. Just in case it was something like one of her books, so that she could replace it.

Amy took the steps two at a time, sprinting up to her dorm. When she finally got there, she was greeted with welcoming smiles from Monica and Brooke, the two Gryffindor fifth-years in her dorm. She ignored them and ran straight to her trunk and cupboard, looking for anything that was lost.

"Ames, are you okay?" Brooke asked anxiously.

"Fine," she grunted.

After ten minutes of panicked searching, she blinked. Everything was there. Nothing was missing. She relaxed, and leant herself against her bed. Now she wouldn't have to send a letter back home asking Mum to buy another book or another cloak from Diagon Alley. She would save Myst the trouble. Then, suddenly, she gasped and ran out of the dorm, out of Gryffindor, and up to the owlery.

"Myst!" she shouted. _"Myst?" _

The owl flew to her shoulder, crooning, and Amy let out a relieved sigh, stroking Myst's soft silver feathers. _Thank Merlin, _she thought happily. _If it had been Myst…_

"I'm not going to go to him," she whispered. "X has got nothing of mine; he was just trying to trick me. I'll send him a letter saying so if you just-"

"Talking to your owl?" said a voice.

She spun around, and there stood Connor Furnell, a fifth-year in the same dorm as James, holding a piece of folded parchment.

"Oh…" she said, blushing. "No, I was just…"

He grinned. "_I _do it all the time," he told her.

"Oh," she said again. "So why are you up here?"

He held up the piece of parchment, a bemused expression on his face. "I'm, uh, here to send a letter to my parents with my owl."

She felt like kicking herself. _Out of all the stupid things I could've said…_ But she simply shrugged back and said, "Me too."

He smiled. "Where's your letter?"

Amy hesitated. "Er…" she began, digging around in her pockets. Then she felt a scrap of parchment. She drew it out, triumphant. "Here!"

Connor turned away and called out to his owl _(Loral!)_ before fastening the letter to his legs, and stroked him once. "To Mum and Dad," he told the owl- Loral. "Make sure you get an answer." Loral cocked his head, seemed to smile, then snapped out his wings and flew off.

Meanwhile, Amy was staring at the piece of parchment she had withdrawn. Her mouth opened and closed. It was her Transfiguration homework, due in just before the holidays. Myst looked at her expectantly. She glanced around, and saw that Connor was as well. He shrugged at her as if to say, _well?_ She quickly dug around in her pockets again, but was dismayed to see that there was nothing else.

She handed it to Myst slowly, leant in close, and whispered, so that Connor wouldn't hear, "Circle the castle once at a distance, then come back and give me the parchment." Myst took off, and Amy muttered a quick prayer that she would come back, and her essay on transfiguring live Dungbats would be unharmed.

"So." Connor said, and she turned to see him leaning against one wall, watching her. "Amy."

"So." Amy repeated. "Connor."

He chuckled. "James is one lucky guy to have you as a friend."

"Best friend," she amended, then blushed again. "Why?"

"You know," he said. "You're funny, you're pretty, you're nice…"

_Funny? Pretty? Nice? _she thought. _Ha. I don't think so._

"Oh," was all she said, however. It seemed to be the only word her mind could conjure up at the moment. What happened to all the insults that came bursting out whenever Malfoy was around? She glanced around. No. Malfoy wasn't here, and, for the first time in her life, she found herself wishing that he was. _Did I really just think that? _She cleared her throat. "Thanks."

She considered for a moment asking where James was, but then shook it from her head. _No, _she thought firmly. _If James isn't speaking to me, then why should _I _talk to _him_?_

"Amy…" began Connor in an awkward voice.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if you would… if you could-" The rest came out in a huge, tumbling rush. "-_cometoHogsmeadewithme."_

"Sorry?" Amy said, and although she had a pretty good idea what he had said, continued, "Could you repeat that?"

"Would you like to come to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow?" Connor asked, turning crimson.

"Who else is coming?" was her immediate response.

Connor coloured considerably, now reaching a shade of deep burgundy. "Just the two of us," Connor mumbled. "Like a date."

"A…a _date?_" she spluttered. She wasn't sure if she had heard him correctly. "As in, a holding-hands, boy-and-girl, Madam-Puddifoot's-style _date?"_

"Yes," Connor said. Amy had never seen him so unnerved, and she hated herself for being the person who had brought this on. "But only if you want."

"Sure," she said, feeling a surge of pity towards him. She couldn't turn him down. "Of course I'll come."

"Really?" Connor blurted out. "Thanks."

She smiled shakily at him, thinking all the while, _Oh My God. What on earth have I gotten myself into...?_

* * *

"He asked you on a _date_?" Brooke said wistfully. "Lucky you."

Monica squealed. "Wear something nice for once!"

Amy narrowed her eyes at her, and asked, "For _once_?"

"No," Monica quickly corrected. "I meant something like a dress or a skirt."

"It's _December_, Monica. It's _freezing,_" Amy said, laughing. "But fine, just for you."

Monica grinned. "Thank you!"

She rushed to her cupboard and pulled out a wintry grey minidress, a white scarf, thin black tights and silver not-too-high high heels. After throwing the outfit on her bed, she pulled out her makeup bag and turned to Amy.

"Tomorrow's a big day for you, Ames," Monica said happily. "And you're going to be wearing _this._"

Brooke sighed. "I'm so sorry about my sister," she said apologetically, shaking her head. "Sometimes I wonder if my _real _twin was abducted and replaced by someone else at birth. Changeling child."

Monica appeared to not have heard this, as she was busily scrawling notes in a book, smiling blissfully.

"Still," Brooke sighed. "Connor _Furnell_? He's so…so…"

"It's only a date, Brooke," Amy said gently. "I only accepted because I felt I couldn't turn him down. If you like him that much, you can have him! There's no competition." Immediately she felt terrible. She felt like she was labelling Connor as a piece of junk at Zonko's, saying _you can have him!_ "You should bump into us in Hogsmeade, then I'll try and figure out a way to get you two alone. I promise."

"_Really?" _said Brooke, brightening considerably. "You're the best, Ames!"

Monica looked up from her work, eyeing Amy with a strange look. Finally she spoke. "Amy, there's someone else you like, isn't there?"

Amy blushed furiously. She didn't know why, but suddenly her thoughts flickered to James. She brushed them away at once. _"No! _No, of course not." Monica raised her eyebrows. "He's not talking to me," Amy mumbled eventually, looking away. "And I used a terrible spell on him."

Brooke paled. "You're not talking about…not…" She and Monica exchanged glances.

"_Turvulus Malfoy?" _they both burst out at the same time.

"No!" she shot back. "Someone else…"

"I would've guessed James Potter," Monica murmured, turning back to her work. "But as far as using a bad spell…?"

Amy's blush deepened. "_J-James?_ No. We're j-just best friends. N-not anything e-else."

This stutter caused Monica to look up again, smiling devilishly. For a fleeting moment Amy wondered if she knew. "Whoever it is," she said, "We've got to make him jealous. Terribly, _terribly _jealous. When he sees you tomorrow, he wont be able to tear his eyes away."

"Is there such thing as a jealousy potion?" Brooke asked in disbelief.

"No, we're going to _beautify _you, Amy. Completely and utterly _beautify _you," Monica said slyly.

Amy felt her jaw drop.

Beautify her? _As if._


	4. Moonflowers

**_Chapter number four.... xx hope you like it!_**

**Moonflowers**

At that moment, there were four rather quiet knocks on their door. Monica, Brooke and Amy exchanged glances, but called "Come in!". After a brief moment's pause, Winona Spencer, a shy young Gryffindor first-year walked in. Monica raised her eyebrows, as if to say, _Yes?_

"Um…" Winona began, staring down at her shuffling feet. "Amy, could I possibly…?"

"Of course," Amy said, glad to have some sort of diversion from the uncomfortable (for her) conversation the three of them had just been having. "What is it, Winona?"

The first-year looked up, relieved and slightly startled to find out that a fifth-year knew her name. "If we could maybe go downstairs?" she asked.

"Oh, sure," Amy said. She shot the twins the most convincing apologetic expression that she could muster, then followed Winona out of her dorm and down to the strangely deserted- there were only four or five people- Gryffindor common room.

"Well, um, Amy," Winona started, looking awkward. "I was told by Professor McGonnagall to give you this note-" She handed her a small square of folded-up parchment, which Amy promptly slid into her pocket.

"Thank you, Winona," she said. But, as she was about to leave, Winona perked up again.

"Amy, I don't really want to bother you, but…"

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I just wondered if you knew where your brother was," Winona finished, two pink dots appearing on her cheeks.

"Geoff?" Amy said. "You should probably ask a third-year. Maybe he's with one of his friends doing homework or something. Or maybe he's practising Quidditch with James," she finished bitterly.

After James had encouraged him and encouraged him, Geoffrey had finally dropped his modest act, and shown his true self when associated with Quidditch: a huge gushing twit. His eyes had widened in bewilderment when James had taken out his broomstick- her brother had later said, "Amy, you don't understand! It's a Swiftshot 5000! It's like the newly improved _Firebolt!_ It's the most amazing-" Amy had stopped listening then, since she hadn't really a care for Quidditch- and when James had, ignoring her hints not to, asked him to come to the Gryffindor team try-outs, his jaw had dropped open. But, to their parents greatest surprise- for they themselves had apparently lacked the talent for flying on broomsticks- he had qualified as a 'rather excellent Beater' as James himself had said. Now there wasn't a day that passed without Geoffrey going on about it to James. He had even purchased a new broom; currently the third best, a Nimbus Deluxe.

"No," Winona said. "Not _Geoffrey. _I'm looking for Aaron."

"_Aaron?" _Amy said, somewhat amazed. "What would you want _Aaron _for?"

Winona turned a shade rather like one of the Gryffindor house colours. "Well," she said. "We're partners in Charms, you see, and we have to do our homework together."

"He's probably around somewhere," Amy said. "You'll find him."

"But he was supposed to meet me here at six!" Winona burst out tearfully. "And it's nearing eight o'clock! I've looked _everywhere, _but I can't find him."

"Don't worry," she said comfortingly. "You'll find him somewhere, don't-" She stopped all of a sudden, halting mid-speech, and gawked at her. "Did you just say…did you say…?"

"Yes?" Winona prompted quietly.

"It's nearing eight o'clock?" Amy said. "_Eight o'clock? _But that's when my detention is!"

"It's seven fifty-three," she said, looking down at her watch. "You'd better hurry."

Amy quickly pulled out the note that Winona had given her from Professor McGonnagall, and, in one fluid motion, tore it open. She scanned it quickly, her heart plummeting with each sentence.

_Your detention is at eight, as you are well aware, and it will be held tonight in the astronomy tower. You should be up there at eight sharp, as I am sure Professor Sprout, whom you shall be serving detention under, will need you to be prompt._

_Prof. M. McGonnagall_

"I'm sorry, Winona," she said quickly, "But I've got to go. My detention's in-"

"Five minutes," she replied, looking down at her watch again. "Don't worry about me; just go."

Amy nodded, and began to sprint as fast as she could, out of Gryffindor, down the numerous darkening corridors, up countless flights of stairs, and, finally, burst through the door to the astronomy tower. Immediately, four faces spun around to face her: Professor Sprout, who looked flustered, though rather relieved; Turvulus Malfoy, who was turning his nose up at her, at all of this, as if he was too superior to have a detention with, in his words, 'Gryffindor scum'; Crystal Marmingston, who seemed as burly as ever, her thin, short hair tied up in a ponytail that was moving in the breeze; and James, who looked away as soon as she caught his gaze.

"Professor, I… well I-"

"You," Professor Sprout interrupted, "Are just on time. _Barely," _she added, as she saw Amy relax considerably. "Now we have an even number of students, which should make things easier. Crystal, you pair up with James. Turvulus, I want you with Amy."

Amy grudgingly stood next to Malfoy. Professor Sprout gestured towards a large barred cage next to her, and she winced. Inside were a flurry of creatures, darting about, and she could, when she squinted enough, make out that they were nothing but slippery oval discs with two antennae and a mouth full of sharp, pointed teeth.

"Moonflowers. Well, Moonflower seeds to be exact," Professor Sprout said. "You see, they are a cousin of the plant Muggles are so fond of: sunflowers. But, unlike their relatives, they bloom in the moonlight, and, on a night when the moon is full, they produce a liquid, called Moon-water that can be used to make a Silverwheed potion."

Malfoy stared greedily at her. "_Silverwheed potion?"_

"And what we will be doing tonight," Professor Sprout said, "Will be planting these Moonflowers, so that after the Christmas holidays, they will be fully grown, and ready to produce Moon-water, which will then be made into Silverwheed potion."

"I still don't understand," said Amy, "What exactly this Silverwheed potion is."

Malfoy sneered at her. "Figures," he scoffed. "Gryffindor hasn't got its reputation for cleverness, you know."

She was about to snap back at him, but Professor Sprout interceded. "Please, you two," she said. "You will only agitate the Moonflowers even more. Amy, Silverwheed potion is an extremely effective, rather rare, and very strong potion that is used to cure illnesses."

"All illnesses?" she asked.

"Well, _most_ illnesses," Professor Sprout agreed. "Which is why it is so very useful."

"So it's like a bezoar," Amy continued.

"Yes, except bezoars are used to cure only poisoning," Professor Sprout said. "Whereas Silverwheed potion covers a wider range: paralysis, poisoning, broken bones…it is, simply, a cure for-"

"Can we please get back to our detention?" Malfoy asked in a bored tone. "Every second up here is… well, one I could do without."

Professor Sprout huffed in reply, and carried on. "One of your two must push their hand into the cage, pull out a Moonflower seed, then throw it to their partner- it must be exposed to the moonlit air, you see- whereupon the partner will catch it and place it inside one of these glass containers, then bury it in the soil. All right, then. Shall we begin?"

"I'll throw the blasted things," Malfoy hissed, before Amy could say anything. "I'm not catching _and _burying them."

She scowled, and made her way towards the large patch of soil, grabbing the first glass container and placing it beside her. "I'm rea-" she began, then cried out as something hard and slippery hit her head. She touched it briefly, feeling the tender skin erupt in pain, then Professor Sprout was shouting angrily at her.

"Be careful, Amy! You have to catch it, not let it get away! If it's touching the ground, it will be useless! It's still in your hair, so just put it in a glass container. Yes, that's it now! Good grief, Amy, don't look so flustered. Yes, nice and quickly there, shut the lid before it can esc- well done! Bury it now. Find a nice patch of soil and _there you go. _Done."

Amy glared at Malfoy, once the still-struggling Moonflower seed was underground. He smirked back at her, grabbed another seed, and sent it hurtling towards her. She saw its mouth open in anger, fangs flashing in the moonlight, and ducked out of pure instinct. It missed her, and slammed into James, upon which it began chewing its way through his cloak.

"Oi!" James roared at her furiously. "Watch it!"

There seemed, to Amy, to suddenly be silence, even though she knew that the Moonflower seeds were still shrieking their disapproval at being handled so roughly and Professor Sprout was still bellowing instructions. James' gaze locked with hers. Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart skipped a beat. Blood was thudding in her ears, loudly, irregularly. She mouthed _please _at him, pulling all her emotions- all her fury at herself for what she had done, all the hurt at him for not speaking to her- into her eyes. Something seemed to pass between them, if not for a moment. Then he tore his gaze away, his attention captured by the Moonflower seed that had gnawed a hole through his clothes, and had now apparently clamped its jaws around his arm. He yelled, grabbing the seed, and stuffing it into a container. Amy looked around, and to her horror, saw three or four seeds rushing through the air before her. Malfoy sniggered. Before she knew what she was doing, Amy had reached up and caught each one of them, the last in the crook of her elbow. Malfoy's lip twitched. Professor Sprout beamed as she buried them each in the soil, after- taking caution not to be bitten- she had crammed them into separate containers.

"Very good reflexes, Amy," she said. Her tone hardened. "But Mr. Malfoy, I assure you, this is not a circus. This is detention. And you will not throw multiple seeds at _any _of your dear friends again. Is that clear?"

"Extremely," he said stiffly; his whole body had gone rigid at her mention of her and him being 'dear friends'.

Amy glanced at James, and she could've sworn he was smiling a little, but then it was gone, just a ghost of one of his grins she had taken for granted before. Once Professor Sprout was out of earshot (she had now moved on to heavily criticize Crystal on her inability to pick the seeds out carefully), she turned to Malfoy.

"So, Topsy-turvy," she said with a rather forced smile. "We're dear friends, and you _never told me? _Ah, the sorrow."

"_Topsy-turvy?" _he spluttered.

"Well of course, my dear friend," she replied, expertly catching a seed. "Turvy as in Turvulus. Topsy-turvy. Or would you prefer the Malfster?"

Malfoy's glare hardened, and he glowered at her. "You are so immature, Longbottom," he said. "And for your information, I came up here tonight to serve detention for an hour. I thought it couldn't get worse when I saw these ugly things, but apparently, there's something even uglier here."

"What's that, Malfster?" Amy quipped. "Your face?"

"No," he said, looking more annoyed than ever now, running a hand through his slickly gelled-back blonde hair. "It's you. You and your idiot friend Potter."

The glass container James had been holding suddenly clattered to the floor. So he had been listening. James stood up, and made his way over to Malfoy. He looked him straight in the eye.

"If you're going to insult me, at least have the decency to say it to my face," he growled. "Or the guts. But since you have neither, I'm going to let you off easily for once."

"Oh," said Malfoy sardonically. "I'm _so _scared."

James deftly pulled out his wand from beneath the folds of his cloak, and pressed it coolly against Malfoy's cheek. Crystal stepped away from the cage, looking terrified. Professor Sprout was so deeply immersed in cornering the seed that had escaped from James' broken container, Amy doubted she even knew what was going on; that there was a fight brewing in her detention period.

"Firstly," said James in a calm voice, "What is your problem with Amy?"

"In general, I haven't been brought up to like ugly, nosy, stupid, filthy blood-traitor girls," he spat back.

"No," Amy amended quickly. "You've been brought up to like purebloods only, right? Courtesy of the greasy scumbag who is your father. Did you know that there are hardly any purebloods in the wizarding world anymore, Topsy-turvy? Who're you gonna marry, then? Your mother?"

She saw another hint of a grin on James' lips, then it had disappeared again.

"Did I forget to mention childish?" Malfoy snapped back.

"Not childish," James was quick to answer. "Just good with words."

Amy was astonished to hear this outburst coming from James, who she had reckoned _hated _her more than anyone else (except perhaps Malfoy), but it still brought a tinge of colour to her cheeks and her mouth to suddenly run dry.

"Defensive, are we?" Malfoy suggested, earning a snicker of encouragement from Crystal.

"She's my friend, and I stand up for my friends unlike _some people," _James shot back. This proclamation brought Amy's sudden explosion of furtive thoughts to come to a swift end. _She's my friend… _she thought to herself. _Friends. Yes. That's what we are. Just friends. Simply friends._

"And my second question," James continued. "Can't you just do us all a favour and go to hell?"

"Huh." Malfoy sneered at him. "I'm not even going to bother answering that."

"Can you not think of a snide enough comeback?" Amy asked him. "How about, 'Well, I'll try my best, but I'm so disgusting that hell itself might throw me back out.' Or perhaps, 'I'd really love to. It would make me feel ever so happy to never have to cheat my way through an end-of-year final again.'"

Whatever snide comeback he may have had to _that _particular outbreak was drowned out by Professor Sprout's surprised shriek.

"Oh! It's already nine forty-five! My my, how time flies by while you're having fun! You'd better get yourselves back down to your dormitories."

They each made quickly for the doorway and down the steps. James and Amy parted from the two Slytherins not long after, and settled into a long silence (before there had been the constant drone of Malfoy bickering with her and James). She tried to catch his eye more than once then, but the walk back to Gryffindor was uneventful, the silence only broken when he muttered the password to the Fat Lady ("Knickerbockers"), but silence settled again straight afterwards. They didn't even acknowledge each other as they turned to go our separate ways, him to the boys' dormitories, Amy to the girls'.

But all the while, she was still thinking about how he had defended her from Malfoy's comment… how he had almost smiled…

* * *

"_Lumos," _Amy murmured, and the tip of her wand blazed with light. She quickly hid it under her duvet, and scribbled a note.

_X,_

_You'd be better off just giving up, since I'm not a thief._

_Amy Longbottom._

She folded up the letter and quietly slipped out of the dormitory, making sure not to wake up either of the Hayweather twins, before tip-toeing up to the owlery. Once there, she called for Myst. There was a fluttering of wings, and she emerged, crooning happily at the sight of Amy.

"Room 38, The Hog's Head," she told her, fastening the letter to her leg. "Be careful."

She gave a tiny, incredulous hoot, and Amy turned off the light on her wand. She gave Myst one last look before the silver owl flew out into the night, then began to make her way back down to Gryffindor.

**_So... reviews anyone?_**


	5. Date

**_Love to any reader!!!!! x_**

**Date**

When Amy walked down for breakfast the next morning, she caught sight of James sitting with Connor and a couple of other Gryffindors. He looked up, saw her looking at him, scowled, and turned away. She felt her cheeks burn. For a moment, she deliberated apologizing to him, but then she remembered her pride. Imagine how it would look if he turned her away after she had apologized for her own behaviour so profusely… and there was the simple problem of if she apologized here, now, Monica and Brooke would know instantly that 'the one she liked' was James, since he would most likely demand an explanation about why she had blasted him out of the hospital wing. This was hopeless. She would have to work it out sometime.

"Hey Amy!" Monica called from further down the table, shaking her out of her stupor. "There's _pain au chocolat _today! Here, I saved you some!"

"How's the whole thing with Turvulus Malfoy going?" Brooke asked in a hushed voice, once she had sat down. "Apparently your pal James used a swelling hex on him. He's still complaining about it, the little wimp."

"It was _brilliant," _Monica said.

"That's exactly what I said," Amy agreed, though her heart didn't feel in it. "Clever way to get back at him, wasn't it?"

"The only drawbacks are that you had to have detention with Malfoy and Marmingston, and the fact that we're now-"

"One hundred and forty points down," said Amy. "All thanks to me."

"No, don't worry! With all the excitement of Christmas coming up, everyone will forget. Besides," Monica continued, "We're more worried about your date with Connor this afternoon, aren't we?"

This truth came crashing down onto Amy, and she glanced up, a look of pure terror on her face. "Is it today?" she whispered.

"Oh, don't be so obnoxious, Amy," Monica said with a smile. "You need to go and get changed straight after breakfast into the clothes I laid out yesterday."

"Do I have to?" Amy muttered.

"Of course you do!" Monica looked horrified. "Remember our plan?"

The honest answer was 'not really', but she said, "Oh sure. Of course. Yes."

"You _are _looking forward to your date, right?" Monica asked. She faced her twin. "Brooke, what about you?"

Brooke blushed. "It's not technically a date," she started, then stopped as she caught sight of Monica's expression. "Well, you know. I, er…yes."

They laughed, and Amy joined in, though she stole another quick glance towards James. He was still there, glaring down the table at them, and peeling his banana with a rather savage ferocity.

"Amy? Hello?" Monica waved her hands in front of Amy's face, and she blinked in confusion.

"What?" she said, looking blankly at them.

"Are you going to tell us who your dream guy is, or not?" Brooke teased. Amy gawped at her, and she sighed. "You know, the one you plan on making jealous?"

Oh," Amy said in comprehension. "Oh, _him. _No chance. You're going to have to guess, because I'm not going to tell you. Besides, there's not much to tell anyway."

"Come on, Ames," Monica pleaded. "You can tell-"

Out of the corner of her eye, Amy saw James and Connor standing up to leave. She hurriedly stuffed a last mouthful of _pain au chocolat _in her mouth, wiped her face and hands clean with a napkin, then stood up to follow them.

"Excuse-me," she muttered to her friends. "I, er, need to go."

From behind her came Monica's teasing quips ("Making a few last minute plans with Connor?") and Brooke's jealous whisper ("Shut _up, _Mon.").

"Hey!" she called, sprinting up to the two boys, once they were well out of the Great Hall. "Hey, I need to talk to you."

"Sure," Connor said. "What's up, sweetie?"

Sweetie? Amy felt a sort of sick swooping in the pits of her belly. _Sweetie? _How dare he.

"Not you," she snapped. _"James._ In private." She shot him a pleading look. "I really need to talk to you. Please. Just give me five minutes."

"What's there to talk about?" he replied bluntly. "Connor, let's-"

"There's a lot to talk about, James," she said. "Five minutes. That's all I ask."

He frowned. "Fine. Five minutes."

They left Connor standing there, his face full of hurt and dejection, and went to a quiet corner of the Gryffindor common room. He wheeled around to face her.

"What?" he hissed.

"I'm so, so sorry," she said. "I didn't mean- well I did, but I wasn't thinking, when I used that magic on you. It just…happened. And when I said stuff about your parents, I really didn't mean it either, and now I just feel awful."

He was silent for a moment before he spoke. "You're sorry."

It was more of a statement than a question, but Amy answered anyway. "Yes. I'm just… I hate this. I want you to speak to me again. I'm so sorry, James."

He let out a deep breath. "I… I accept your apology," he said, somewhat stiffly, "And I'm sorry about calling your parents idiots and about saying that you don't do any exercise at all."

"You didn't say that!" Amy burst out before she could stop herself. Instantly, a blush flooded her cheeks. James looked bemused. "I mean, what you said was I haven't done any exercise since I fell off that broomstick."

"You remembered what I said?" he asked in disbelief. "_Exactly _what I said?"

"Well it was kind of hurtful," she said truthfully.

"So was you blasting me out of that room," James retorted. "That was hurtful, both in the physical and mental… scheme of things."

They faced each other, chests heaving, and the silence was huge and awkward. Then, as if on cue, they burst out laughing in perfect unison. Once they had settled down, their stomachs aching and tears in their eyes from laughing so much, James grinned. Amy smiled back.

"I just… I never thought we'd be in this position," she said. "Did you?"

"What position?" he asked.

"Well, you know, apologizing, having awkward silences… I thought best friends never had these sorts of things," she blurted.

"Best friends?" And a corner of his mouth twitched again. "You think we're best friends?"

"That's what _I _thought," she said, her temper on the borderline of heating up again. "But if you didn't, then…"

"No, no." He shook his head. "It's just interesting. I'd love to be your best friend… if we aren't already."

"Really?" Amy gushed. "I, er… I mean, all right, then."

James rolled his eyes. "So what're you doing this afternoon? Hogsmeade?"

Her heart leapt inside her chest. He was asking her what she was doing in her free time! Maybe… maybe it was a backwards way of asking her on a date!

"Well… y-yes," she managed to stutter. "You?"

"'Course I'm going," he replied. "I never miss a trip to Hogsmeade, you know that. Want to join me?"

_Yes, yes, yes! Of course! _Then she remembered her date with Connor, and gritted her teeth. Her ecstatic smile vanished.

"Thanks, but I can't," she said. "I've already promised someone else that I'd go with them."

"You're going on a date, are you?" he teased.

"Yes," she said simply.

His eyes flew wide open, and she could see that he was floored.

"I was only joking," he muttered.

"Well, I am," she said.

"Who asked you?" he said, grinning again. "Is it someone I know? Someone in our year?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"I bet it's that Jonathan Sleuth in Ravenclaw," he blurted out. "He's a ladies man, right? Handsome guy, and a brilliant Keeper…" he trailed off, looking at her expectantly. His discomfort made her smile.

"Keep guessing, James," she said. "It wont be long until you figure it out."

"You're so annoying," he said.

"I know, I know," she replied. "It's one of my better traits." She grinned at him, then started upstairs.

"See you later, best friend!" he called after her. "Have a great date!"

And she knew in that instant that she was truly forgiven.

* * *

Amy walked down to Hogsmeade with Monica and Brooke, nervously anticipating her date, a few hours later. They passed The Hog's Head, and she shivered. Whoever had written to her, asking for that map, was in there right now.

"Hey Amy!" a voice called.

She spun around, suddenly terrified, and there was Connor, dressed down in a simple woollen jumper and jeans. She forced a smile, and made towards him. Monica and Brooke slipped into Honeydukes nearby.

"Aren't you cold?" she asked, once she was beside him.

She herself was wearing, on top of the grey minidress Monica had leant her, a thick coat and on her head, a woolly hat. Monica had advised her against it, but Amy had ignored her. She wouldn't go out to Hogsmeade dressed like that, she had said. She would freeze!

"No, I'm perfect," he replied cheerfully. Then his face was worried. Over anxious, she thought, slightly irritated by the fact. "Are _you _cold?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No. Of course not."

They started to stroll along the path, and she remembered her promise to Brooke. They were going to make the two meet by Dervish and Banges. Suddenly, just like that, Connor's hand was gripping hers… too tight. Much too tight. She wanted to struggle, to pull it free, but bit down on her tongue instead. She had to be nice.

"You look very pretty, by the way," Connor complimented her.

"Er, thanks," she said. "You don't look too bad yourself."

His grin widened. "Do you want to have lunch soon?" he asked. "I've made a reservation at Madam Puddifoot's for twelve."

She couldn't help but let out a silent groan. _Madam Puddifoot's?_

"Yeah, that'll be great," she answered.

They changed direction, beginning to walk instead towards a familiar structure she recognized instantly as being the couples' delight, Madam Puddifoot's. Then, from behind them came a familiar chuckle.

"Connor, who've you finally plucked up the courage to ask out?"

It was joined by a few other laughs- by Declan Morrison, another Gryffindor fifth year in James' dorm, and by David Lee, a handsome Eurasian Ravenclaw- and Amy felt her face heat up. Connor was blushing as well, but guffawed along with them.

"Guys, seriously," he said. "Like any of _you _ever had a date."

There was instant silence, and, internally, Amy snickered. She turned around, and the shock on James' face was immediate. He cloaked it at once with a lopsided grin.

"Amy and Connor," he said. "Who would've thought."

"Oh, shut up James," she told him. "Let's go have our lunch, Connor. These idiots aren't worth sticking around with."

"Where're you going to lunch?" James queried.

Connor spoke before she could stop him. "Madam Puddifoot's."

James bent double with laughter, and Amy flushed with anger.

"You're taking _Amy _to Madam Puddifoot's?" he chortled to Connor. "Bad idea, I tell you. she's not really one for romance."

"I am, actually," she said defiantly. "Let's _go_, Connor."

She tugged his sleeve, and he followed her obediently. She remembered Dervish and Banges.

"Er, Connor," she said. "I…oh no."

"What is it?" he asked, turning to face her anxiously.

"I think I dropped my purse further down the path," she lied. "I'm just going to run and get it. I think it's over there, by Dervish and Banges. I felt something slip out of my hand around there.

He was only too eager to go. "I'll fetch it for you. Dervish and Banges, right? Shouldn't be a minute."

As soon as he had left, sprinting down the path, James turned to face her, closing the distance between them in one stride. He cocked an eyebrow.

"What're you doing?" he asked suspiciously.

"I'm enjoying my date with Connor, with no unwelcome interruptions-" Here she glared expectantly at him. "- and having a wonderful time."

"You don't even _have _a purse, Amy," he said. "So I know you're lying. What're you planning?"

Amy knew she was caught out. She sighed. "Fine, fine. I'll tell you, just…" She pulled him a bit further away from the two other fifth-years, who looked bored, and drifted over to Zonko's.

"Brooke really likes him," she replied. "And I don't… not like that, anyway."

"Then why did you agree to come with him?" he asked.

"Because I couldn't turn him down," she said.

"You turned _me _down," James replied hotly.

"Yes, well that was because I actually had a reason why I couldn't come," she said. "I couldn't say I wouldn't come to him because I didn't really like him. He'd be crushed."

"So you're handing him over to Brooke," he said.

"Well, yes, that's the general idea," she said. "You'll see. Three, two…"

On one, Brooke stepped into Connor's path, and charged her down, causing them both to fall in a heap on the floor. He was now apologizing profusely, and Brooke was blushing.

"Amy, don't do this to him," James said.

She spun around to face him. "I don't know what you mean, James. I'm just giving him a chance with Brooke, who actually likes him in that way. I'm not really, er, looking for a relationship at the moment." Instantly, she regretted her last choice of words.

"Oh right…" James' voice faded into silence. He eventually spoke up again. "You look good today, by the way. Really pretty."

Now Amy was the one who was blushing. "Thanks," she said. "You look good too."

He grinned, and indicated his outfit: jeans and a jumper. "What? In _this?"_

"_No, _you look hideous," she said sarcastically, but smiled back.

Then Amy caught sight of Connor beginning to turn away from Brooke, while Brooke tried to dissuade him, catching hold of his arm. She herself grabbed James' sleeve, and began running. He stumbled after her.

"Come on," she said, still chuckling. "Connor's going to see me otherwise."

They tore past Honeydukes, past Madam Puddifoot's, and finally ran, out of breath, into The Three Broomsticks. Breathing heavily, they collapsed into two free chairs, and Madam Rosmerta came over.

"Can I get you two anything?" she asked.

"Oh," said James. "Two Butterbeers, then, please."

"All right," she said, then headed behind the counter where she promptly began to pour out two steaming mugs of Butterbeer.

"Quick," Amy said. "James, I need you to help me think of an excuse why I vanished."

"Say I kidnapped you," chuckled James.

"A _serious _excuse," she said, though she couldn't help but smile slightly.

"Er… what about you had a sudden urge to taste Butterbeer and came here?" he offered. "Or you suddenly realized you hadn't gotten a Christmas present for Geoff, and went to Zonko's."

"That's a good one," Amy said. "Thanks."

"Anytime," he replied.

Just then, Madam Rosmerta came back with two mugs of Butterbeer, and placed them in front of them. "That'll be two Sickles, four Knuts, please."

Amy dug her money out of her pocket, but James was quicker. He flashed her a grin, then dropped his coins into Madam Rosmerta's outstretched palm.

"Thank you," she said, then left for another table.

"You know I hate it when people do that," Amy said to James. "You could've left me at least a Sickle!"

"You should let other people pay for your stuff once in a while, Ames," he said. "Besides, it was only a Butterbeer. No big deal."

She sighed. "I suppose I have to forgive you just this once."

"Good," he said. "So what shall we toast to?"

"Connor and Brooke," she said.

"To Connor and Brooke!" he said loudly.

They clinked cups, and held their drinks up to their lips. Then, before Amy had even had a sip of hers, James had chugged his all down. He was aware of the heat an instant later, and his face turned a shade darker, his tongue lolling out as he waved his hands before it, trying in vain to cool his burning mouth down. Amy said, laughing, _"Frizelta." _A stream of freezing water came from Amy's wand, and filled his mouth. He mumbled his thanks.

Then, suddenly, the door of The Three Broomsticks burst open, and Professor McGonnagall was standing there, Monica at her side.

"There she is!" Monica said, pointing at Amy.

Amy looked at James, who, in turn, looked slightly unnerved. Professor McGonnagall made for their table, a grave expression on her face.

"Miss Longbottom, I need you to come with me immediately," she said. "I'm very sorry, Mr Potter, but… well."

"It's all right," he said. "We were just leaving anyway."

He shot her a worried look, before standing up and leaving. Amy followed Professor McGonnagall out of The Three Broomsticks, where Monica left them, and they trudged back up to the school. Amy couldn't help asking what was going on.

"I will tell you in a while," she replied firmly. "For now, just follow me."

Eventually, they arrived at her office, the headmistress' office, and she muttered something to a rather grim-looking gargoyle. It began to turn, revealing a stairway. Professor McGonnagall started upstairs, and Amy followed her. And there, sitting miserably between two first years (one of whom she recognized as Winona Spencer, and the other as Louie Mayer, Aaron's best friend) was Geoffrey.

"Geoff," Amy said. "What've you gotten yourself into _now_?"

"This time, I've actually no idea," he replied blatantly.

Amy looked expectantly at Professor McGonnagall.

"Sit yourself down, Amy," she said, looking tired. Amy sat. "You four… do any of you have _any _idea where Aaron Longbottom is?" They all shook their heads. "He is missing. No-one has seen him since Thursday evening, two days ago. He wasn't in any lessons all of yesterday, and did not turn up for his detention with Mr Mayer today."

Amy felt light-headed all of a sudden, and she felt herself collapse against Geoffrey. He was staring at Professor McGonnagall, his eyes wide open. Louie looked baffled, and Winona had burst into tears.

"Amy, Geoffrey," she continued, "Your father is down in his office, calling your mother. You may see him if you wish, later on. And you are sure, all four of you, that you do not have any idea where Aaron is?" They nodded again. She addressed Louie. "Mr Mayer, I will ask you this question, and I expect it to be answered honestly, as this is a serious matter. Is this some kind of joke you two are enacting? If so…"

"No, Professor," Louie answered. "No, definitely not. This isn't Ron's idea of a joke at all."

"It's true, Professor," Geoffrey confirmed. "My brother wouldn't do something like this."

Amy remembered Winona's words from yesterday, and how she had barely listened, caring more about her detention. The thought made her feel sick.

_I'm looking for Aaron… _

_Aaron? What would you want Aaron for?... _

_Well, we're partners in Charms, you see, and we have to do our homework together… _

_He's probably around somewhere. You'll find him… _

_But he was supposed to meet me here at six! And it's nearing eight o'clock! I've looked everywhere, but I can't find him… _

All of a sudden, Geoffrey elbowed her, and she looked at Professor McGonnagall. Her eyes were blurry with tears.

"Miss Longbottom? Ah, you are with us again," she said. "I need you four to return to whatever you were doing, and let me speak with the staff members, who will be outside. We'll do our very best. He can't have gone very far, unless he travelled by Portkey or Floo Powder, but I hardly believe that a first-year would-"

Geoffrey interrupted her. "Aaron never went anywhere, Professor. He must've been taken. Maybe it's someone _else's _idea of a joke."

The Malfoys, Amy was sure he was thinking.

"Kidnapped, Mr Longbottom?" Professor McGonnagall echoed. She looked disbelieveing. "And how are you so sure about this?"

"Aaron loves Hogwarts." Amy surprised herself. It was her own voice speaking. "He _adores _it. He wouldn't just leave, not without an explanation. I agree with Geoff. He must've been taken by somebody- or something- else."

She suddenly remembered something. _I have something of yours you might want back… _That letter from the stranger named X. She remembered how relieved she had been when nothing of hers had been taken. Another line came to mind. _It is something of great value… _

X had him. X had Aaron. Of course.

"So you're sure you don't know what has happened to Aaron Longbottom?" Professor McGonnagall asked again.

"No," came Louie's voice.

"N-no," stuttered Winona, still crying.

"I don't know," said Geoffrey.

Amy hesitated. "No. I'm sorry, but I don't know."

**_Reviews would make me so happy! Please?????_**


	6. Making Plans

**_Been a while, been a while, but this chapter- I hope- is worth it!_**

**Making Plans**

The first place she went to was her dormitory. She threw open her top drawer, and fished for the letter. She ran through it once, twice, three times.

_Miss Longbottom,_

_I have something of yours you might want back. It is something of great value. In return, there is something that you must give me. I can see that you may not want to corporate, but if not, then your precious little…belonging will never come back._

_The item in question is a certain map. It belongs to your friend James Potter's father, Harry. To the unsuspecting eye, it looks like a plain piece of parchment, slightly yellowed with age. However, it is extremely important that I come to own this, and I need you to steal it. Harry Potter will, no doubt, keep it close, or perhaps locked up somewhere. If you must know what it is called, I shall tell you. It is called The Marauders Map. _

_If you are willing, come to room 38 in The Hog's Head. I'll be waiting. But, of course, there is a time limit. If you are not here by midnight of the seventh of January, with then I will get rid of your property and come to Hogwarts myself. I am sure neither of us do not want to let it come to that._

_Sincerely,_

_X._

It all clicked into place. X taking something of hers, something of 'great value', and Aaron's sudden disappearance… There was no other explanation for it. X had Aaron. Fuelled by a sudden swell of fury, Amy took out a piece of parchment and her quill, and began scribbling back a letter.

_X,_

_Give him back or you'll be sorry._

_Amy Longbottom._

Then she suddenly realized Myst hadn't returned yet. She had no way of sending the letter, since all of the school owls were being used to deliver Christmas decorations to the school. She crumpled in a sobbing heap on her bed.

She didn't hear Brooke come in later on, gasp, then run out; nor did she hear Monica stagger in, laughing with someone, hesitate, then shut the door behind her as they left. The door opened again, half an hour or so later, and Amy's tears were finally beginning to dry. It was Brooke.

"Amy," she said. "I've a message from Profess- your dad. He wants to see you in his office."

She nodded, and rubbed her eyes. "I'll be right down."

The trip out of Gryffindor seemed like forever to Amy. Halfway down the staircase, she felt her feet lurch to a stop of their own accord. And, when she forced herself to walk again, down into the Gryffindor common room, all gazes were on her. Feeling sick to the pits of her stomach, she walked in between them, feeling their stares, hearing their hushed whispers. Suddenly she was just little Amy Longbottom again, a first-year at Hogwarts. Cowardly, shy. Not the girl James had said she had become.

Then, speak of the devil. "Oh, give it up," came James' voice from the right of her. She looked over at him. "Shut up with your whispers and stop staring! The girl's trying to get through."

He looked at her and nodded. _What's wrong? _he mouthed. So he didn't know. No one knew. Amy fought back a rising swell of nausea. The secret was all hers.

Then the others chorused in. "Amy, what happened?', 'Brooke said she saw you crying upstairs,' , 'Bloody hell, you look a _right _mess,' and, 'Just tell us, Amy. Tell us what's up.'

She span around to face them. "Just leave me alone, okay?" she managed to croak. "Everything's fine. Nothing's the matter. Nothing's up. So just…" She sighed. "Just leave it," she finally said.

Then she left. It began with shaking footsteps, then at a fast pace, then she was sprinting. The tears came again. She had thought that she had cried too much, that she had used up all of her tears, but she had been wrong. Oh yes. They came, zigzagging down her cheeks, running down her chin, her throat.

"Oi, Amy!"

James' voice. It almost made her stop, but she kept running. _Nothing _could make her stop now.

"Ames, hold it! Stop! God, you run so fast when you _try."_

No. An insult had Amy Longbottom stopping just like that.

"You take that back, James," she said, turning around. "You take that back."

He skidded to a halt, grinning. "I knew I could make you stop."

"Oh, don't be so proud of yourself." She knew she was being foul, but she couldn't help it. She was in a foul mood, so it was only normal that it would reflect in her personality. She dropped her shoulders. No, it wasn't fair. Not on James. "Sorry," she said. "Sorry I'm being all rude. It's just that… just that…"

"Just that what?" he intervened. "Amy, just that what?"

And then she was sobbing again. James stood, shocked, for a moment, before hugging her, though admittedly slightly awkwardly.

"Hey there," he said gently. "Hey, relax. What's wrong, Amy? What's got you crying like that for, huh? Shh."

"It's just that- just that I-" She hiccupped between sobs. "I- Aaron- X has him- letter- Maraud…"

And there she stopped herself. She couldn't tell James about the map just yet.

"Maraud?" he asked. "What d'you mean?"

"Nothing." She shook her head, pulled away from his embrace, dried her tears, took a hold on herself. "Nothing, James. Nothing's wrong. Really."

"Come on, Amy. I know when you're lying. So what's wrong?"

Amy looked up at him, and saw the worry in his eyes. "James… it's Aaron. He's disappeared."

James didn't answer for a while. He just stood there, staring at her.

"James?" Amy prompted. "Please say something."

"Did you say…?" he finally asked. She just nodded. She couldn't bring herself to speak again. "Oh, Christ. Amy, are you okay? _Aaron's…_I can't believe it. Does Geoff know?" One nod. "What about Louie?" Another nod. "Does anyone else know?"

"Winona Spencer, that first-year who follows him around everywhere," she said. "And Dad…oh God, _Dad! _I was on my way to go and see him, when-"

"Shh, Amy," James said. "Go now. It's fine. It'd be good for you to go and see him."

"Yeah, it probably would be," she agreed. "And thanks."

He looked genuinely surprised. "For what?"

"Well, you know, for helping me out," she said. "It made me feel a lot better letting it all out, talking to you."

He grinned again, that same familiar grin. "Yeah, you know what they say. What are best friends for?"

She couldn't help but smile the tiniest bit. "Thanks. I should be going now, though."

"See you later, Ames. Good luck," he said. "I hope they find him."

"Yeah," she replied. "Yeah, me too."

* * *

Amy knocked on the door of her father's office once, twice, three times. From inside came a tired "Come in."She pushed it open.

"Dad?" she called softly.

"Amy," he said, and she followed his voice to a small armchair beside a dying fire. She was shocked to see how he looked. His whole body was slouched, as if he had collapsed into the armchair hours ago, and hadn't moved. His eyes seemed dead, his skin pale.

"Dad," she said. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he lied. "But Aaron… do you want to talk about it, Amy?"

She shook her head. "He's fine, Dad. He'll be fine. You know Ron. He's a strong kid."

"He's only a first-year," her father replied weakly, and, for the first time in her life, Amy found herself believing all of the stories people had told her about how her father, Neville Longbottom, used to be. _No, _she thought firmly. _He is not weak. None of my family are weak._

"Have any other first-years thrown _Burpsies _at the Malfoys?" she said. "Have any other first-years managed to be so cheeky, and _still _be everyone's favourite?"

"No, you're right, Ames," he said, and tried to smile. "He should be fine. But, nevertheless, I'm worried about him."

"Does Mum know?" she asked.

He nodded. "I sent her an owl; she should be here in an hour or so."

"Okay," Amy said, feeling more reassured than ever. Despite her parents' childhood reputations, they were now some of the strongest people she knew. Her mother would help sort everything out.

But she didn't know about _X…_

"Amy, is there anything you want to tell me?" her father suddenly said. He was staring at her with the strangest expression. Amy internally kicked herself. Had she been broadcasting her thoughts out loud? "Amy?"

"No, Dad," she said. "I'm fine. We'll find Ron. Does the Ministry know?"

Her father shook his head, incredulously, but bitterly. "Why on earth would the Ministry want to know about a little missing boy?"

"Marilyn Skeeter?" she offered as some sort of explanation. Marilyn Skeeter, the only daughter of acclaimed journalist Rita Skeeter, lived up to all the expectations of her mother. If it could be said, she was even worse than her mother. Anything…_anything _would be publicized by her. She couldn't even imagine the headlines: 'A mystery child-catcher at Hogwarts?', 'Aaron Longbottom, a young troublemaker, proves himself too much trouble for even Hogwarts!', or, "Bottoms up! The youngest Longbottom missing.'

"Dad, it's fine," she said. "I'm fine, and I'm sure once Mum gets here, she'll take control. But for now, I'm going to have to go…"

He pulled her into a hug. "Sure. I might come up and see you later." She shot him a disbelieving glance. "Or I might stay here until Luna arrives," he finished lamely.

"Bye, Dad," she said. "Love you."

"Love you too, Ames."

She left, shutting the door behind her. The Marauders' Map. She couldn't believe it, but she was going to have to take matters into her own hands. As capable as her parents were, sometimes they were a little overwhelmed by emotion. She really couldn't believe it. She wasn't little Amy Longbottom anymore. She was a whole new girl. A thief.

And the thought made her stomach churn.

* * *

It was the next morning, Sunday, at breakfast, when she approached him.

"Hey, James."

Even her voice seemed to sound guilty. But he turned around, looked at her, and smiled reassuringly.

"How're you feeling, Amy?" he asked.

"I'm…all right," she said. "But, um, I don't think my parents are. Geoff and I don't really want to impose on them, you know? So Geoff's staying over at Rose and Hugo's. I'll probably just stay here at Hogwarts by myself." She gave a convincing shrug. "It should be okay… I would have stayed at Monica and Brooke's, but they're going away to Spain, and I thought…"

"You could come over and stay at my place," James offered. At this, her heart both fell and leapt. She was hoping he might not say that, so she wouldn't have to… "My parents are always saying how they'd love to have you over. Lily loves you too."

Lily Potter was in the same year as Aaron, sorted into Gryffindor at the beginning of this year. She was a quiet, thoughtful little girl who whenever Amy spoke to her, doted on her every word.

"And Albus?" she asked.

"He's also going over to Rose and Hugo's," he explained. "Just for a while, though. For Christmas, I think all of us are getting together."

"Well then, maybe," she said. "Actually, I think that'd be nice. Yes. I'd like to come."

"Tuesday," he said. "I'll tell my parents."

"And I, mine," she agreed. "Thanks, James. I think they'd like a bit of time to themselves to try and find Aaron."

"Yeah," he said. "I bet they will."

**_And on that note, I'll be cruel and leave you hanging! Don't worry! Give me a few reviews, and I'll upload the next chapter soon! Promise!_**

**_xx_**


	7. Let It Snow

**_Sorry for the wait! Fanfic hasn't been working for me lately... but now (finally) it is!!!! So here you go._**

**Let it snow…**

The Christmas holidays came faster than she had thought. In next to no amount of time, it was Tuesday, and James' parents were driving them- in a car of all things- back to his house, having already picked them up from platform nine and three quarters. As they pulled into a familiar road, James announced "Number twelve Grimauld Place! Home sweet home!" and Amy laughed weakly.

"Grab your bags and I'll see you inside," Harry said to them, and winked. "I just need to send this car back to the Weasley's."

As it had done so many times before, number twelve Grimauld Place emerged from between numbers eleven and thirteen for them. The four of them- Ginny, Amy, James and Lily- all trooped inside.

"Amy, you're in the room next to James as usual," Ginny told her. "Remember, up the stairs-"

"-And to the right," James finished. "Mum, she knows. So can we go?"

She sighed. "Fine. But don't forget to unpack!"

Amy, Lily and James all hurried upstairs, lugging their bags behind them, and when Lily turned left, James and Amy turned left. He grinned as Spark ran up the stairs, and shot through his bedroom door, tailing a small, terrified dormouse.

"See you in a bit," he said, rolling his eyes. "Don't bother unpacking; Mum does it anyway. Just leave your bags on your bed and then come on downstairs."

She tried to smile. "Sure," she managed in a choked voice. "I'll, uh, just need to let Myst out first."

Amy shut the door lightly behind her. _I'll find the Marauders Map… _she thought,_ but not today. Tomorrow, maybe. Then I'll arrange for a trip back to Hogsmeade. Or maybe the day after tomorrow. But today, I'll just forget all about it. Today is going to be fun. _

She pushed open the windows, and Myst flew outside, squawking happily. Amy did as James said, throwing her bags onto the bed, then after a quick glance in the mirror, shook her head. _I'm still wearing uniform! _She unclasped the two metal catches, and unzipped her bag, pulling out a slightly oversized pinstriped blue blouse and jeans. After slipping them on, she wrapped a scarf around her neck as well, and shrugged on a jumper. It was winter, after all.

She trudged downstairs a while later, to find Ginny bustling about the kitchen, cooking what seemed to smell like fried eggs and sausages. She smiled as she caught sight of Amy, and gestured to the table, where James and Lily were already sitting. This kitchen was not much different from hers at home, she thought, as she sat down beside James. It was moderately sized, though longer than wide, with a large, red-brown table and chairs. A clock hung on one wall, and from the others hung full-blown photographs, mostly of James' family, although she saw some of herself and members of her own family as well.

"It looks… different," Amy commented, meaning the house.

"Mum wanted a change," James explained. "So we refurnished and redecorated."

"It's nice," she complimented. "I like it."

He grinned. "Same. It used to be a bit… dull."

She nodded in agreement, then quickly backtracked, blushing. "Um, I mean… It wasn't dull, just that-"

"Don't worry," he chuckled. "No offence taken. Mum, can you hurry up? We're starving!"

"Coming," Ginny announced, and the frying pan flew over with a flick of her wand, slanting itself so that each of them- including the two empty spaces left for her and Harry- had five sausages and a fried egg, sunny-side up. James inhaled deeply, then dug in. Amy and Lily followed suit.

"I'm back," said Harry, walking cheerfully into the kitchen. "Mmm, smells _delicious, _Ginny."

He leant down to kiss her, and James made a face. Amy laughed, and this time, it was genuine. Somehow, having a meal seemed to make her relax.

"Did you know," he went on, coming over to sit next to his daughter, "that it's forecasted to snow later on." He winked, as Amy, James and Lily broke out into excited chatter. "It's going to be quite heavy, I think."

"At what time?" Lily asked, beaming.

"Oh, the last time I heard," he said, "around… _now."_

The three children's heads swung around to face the window. Flakes of snow, just as Harry had said, were beginning to fall, and already the neighbourhood was coated with a thin sheen of snow.

"Mum!" squealed Lily. "Can we go out? Can we go? _Please?"_

Aunt Ginny came to sit down as well, ruffling James' hair fondly. He scowled. "When you've finished your breakfast," she said, "then you can go. But you have to promise me you'll put on a coat. And you two too," she added to Amy and James.

He rolled his eyes. _"Mu-um. _'Course we will." Then his eyes flashed with excitement. "Mum, Dad, we can't _really _play outside here," he said. "Can't we, you know, go and visit Gran and Gramps? They have such a big garden… Or Rose and Hugo? Albus is there, and so is Geoff."

Lily chorused in. "Please, Mum? It's such a good idea. Because James is right… we _can't _play here, it's too full of Muggles."

"Amy?" Harry asked.

She grinned. "Can we?"

Aunt Ginny sighed, then smiled. "Finish your meal, then I'll go and get some Floo Powder. We're going to see Gran and Gramps. Rose and Hugo will probably be there, too, with Al and Geoff."

James punched the air. "Yes!"

The rest of the meal was eaten in a hurry as all three of them shovelled down their food, scraping their knives against their plates. Finally Lily, who they had all been waiting for, straightened.

"I'm done," she said.

"Go and get whatever you need, then," Ginny said. "Be back down here in five minutes, or we're leaving."

They raced upstairs, and Amy grabbed a coat, a hat, and changed her footwear into boots. She was about to leave, when she grabbed an additional coat. Just in case…

"Bring your broom!" came James' shout from across the hall.

She stumbled. _Her broom? _Oh, well. All of her senses were screaming against it, but she picked up her broomstick, an old Dreamflame 90, and hurried downstairs. The others, yet again, were already there, waiting for her.

"The Burrow!" Lily said, stepping forwards into the fireplace and flinging the Floo powder down. She vanished in an explosion of green flames.

"Right, I'll go next," Ginny said. "The Burrow!"

Harry offered the glass jar of Floo powder to Amy, and she took a handful. "You next, Amy."

"The Burrow!" she said loudly, clearly.

She arrived, coughing and sneezing, in the fireplace of Mr and Mrs Weasley Sr., although the Weasleys Jr. were also there, with their two children Rose and Hugo. She was wondering if she would ever get used to the strange feeling of travelling by Floo powder, when James shot out of the fireplace, stumbling into her. They collapsed on the floor, laughing.

"Come on, let's go outside!" James said, hauling Amy up. "Look!"

She looked. There was so much more snow here than in London. The garden was white, covered in a thick blanket of snow, snow that was still falling. James grinned as he caught sight of his younger brother, Albus, standing beside Rose and Hugo Weasley and, of course, Amy's brother, Geoff. All four were covered from head to toe in melting snow.

"Hey, Al," he said.

"James!"

"What's it like outside?" he asked.

"Brilliant." Albus laughed. "We're going out again, you coming?"

"'Course."

James grabbed both of their brooms, and they sprinted outside. The snow was falling heavily, though it came down in light, dry flakes. Instantly, Amy felt it in her hair, on her cheek. James threw Amy her Dreamflame 90, and he leapt astride his Swiftshot.

"Coming, Ames?" he called, and, feeling awkward, Amy flew up to meet him.

_This isn't too bad, _she thought. Amy never flew, never played Quidditch, because she was worried she would make a fool of herself. The truth was, she had only flown once before, when she was a first-year. It had ended disastrously when Turvulus Malfoy's broom had collided with hers in mid-air, causing her to fall.

Geoff, Albus, Rose, Hugo and Lily were now all hovering alongside her and James.

"So who's up for a snowball fight?" James asked loudly. Everyone cheered, even Amy. Here, in the snow with her friends, she felt she could forget all of her problems. "Let's go!"

Amy swallowed. _I can do this. And even if I fall, I won't hurt myself. There's snow down there. _Feeling a sudden burst of bravery, she dove down to the ground, and scooped up a handful of snow. She heard Geoff speeding towards her, and swerved to the side as he launched a snowball at her. She flung hers, catching Geoff right in the face. The others roared with laughter as Geoff spluttered, bewildered, rolling back in the snow. He grinned, sitting up.

"Nice one, Amy!" he said. "I didn't know you could fly!"

It was true. She had just flown… she had dived, picked up snow with one hand, swerved an incoming snowball, and thrown one… bull's eye. She looked up to see James staring at her, his mouth slightly open.

"Amy, you can actually fly pretty well," he said, sounding floored.

She shrugged, trying to seem casual, although, inside she was dumbstruck. "Yeah, maybe."

Just then, Lily threw a snowball at Rose, and the snowball fight was back in motion. Amy, with a newfound confidence, dove, scooped, and threw snowballs at everyone, never missing. She laughed along with everyone else as others met their mark on her.

"James!" she yelled as she hurled one at him. He spun around, saw her snowball heading for him, and ducked. "Remember, Amy, I play Quidditch!" he teased. "You can't get me that easily."

"I bet you can't get me, either!" Amy chuckled back.

The challenge sparked in James' eyes. "You think?"

"Five Knuts says you can't get me," she said, grinning. "Scared?"

"Five Knuts," he agreed. "But Five Knuts says you can't get me, either."

Then he nose-dived to the ground, picking up a fistful of snow. She was close behind, and plummeted to the ground after him, running her hand through the soft snow. A snowball came whizzing towards her, and she quickly leant backwards, so it barely skimmed her face.

"Nice try, James," she said. "But you're only the Seeker, not a Chaser. You'll need a better aim to hit me."

With that, she shot forwards and slammed the snowball into James. His eyes flew wide open. He couldn't believe it. Amy burst out into laughter.

"Pay up, James," she said. "Five Knuts, as you promised."

"What's this?" Rose asked, coming up behind them. "Amy, you hit _James?"_

"James, you let _Amy _get you!" Hugo and Albus teased.

"You're putting the Gryffindor Quidditch team to shame," Geoff said, shaking his head and grinning.

This caused James to retort: "Geoff, _you _were hit by Amy, too!"

Even Lily chuckled. "James, Five _Knuts?_ Ha!"

James finally saw the funny side, and his face broke into a grin. "Fine. Five Knuts. But you're going to have to catch me first, Amy."

He sped up into the air, and Amy flew behind him, laughing until her sides ached.

"James, this isn't fair!" she shouted. "Your broom is _so _much faster than mine!"

"You've still gotta catch me!" James yelled back, grinning. "Or are _you _too scared?"

She grinned back. "I'm going to get you for that, James Potter!"

Then she rushed forwards, feeling the snow cold on her face. James veered left and right, and, finally, she decided to stop. She sighed, hovering. James approached her uncertainly after a few seconds.

"Amy, are you okay?" he asked.

"I don't know…" she mumbled.

Concerned, he flew over to her. "Ames…" As quick as a bullet released from a gun, she caught his wrist, smiled.

"Gotcha."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. You got me. I surrender."

Down below, Geoff, Albus, Rose, Hugo and Lily were cracking up. James looked slightly embarrassed.

The snowball fight began again with more enthusiasm, and all too soon, Hermione was calling for them to finish.

"Come on in, now! It's getting dark!"

They flew back inside, smiling. She brushed the snow quickly off each of them as they walked in.

"Five Knuts?" said Amy.

James dug a hand into the pocket of his jeans, and pulled out two Sickles. He shrugged. "That's all I have. Keep the change." He suddenly looked up, cocked his head, and sniffed. "What is that _smell?" _he breathed. "Roast chicken?"

Geoff ran up to them. "Roast chicken," he agreed. "Race you there?"

She sighed. Boys. All they cared about was food, it seemed.

But that chicken really _did _smell good…

**_Sorry for the awful ending, but hope the next chapter will make up for it! I'm only waiting for some reviews first..._**


	8. Scandal

**_So... I'm not going to say anything, no author's note... just read on!_**

**Scandal**

All through dinner, it seemed Geoff and Albus were shooting glances at Rose, then hurriedly looking away, their faces bright red. Amy was highly amused by this, and watched them all through dinner, laughing quietly to herself. This was _beyond _funny. One quiet exchange even had her in hysterics.

"R-Rose," stammered Albus. "Um, do you want any gravy?"

Rose shook her head. "No thanks."

This time, Geoff made an attempt. "What about apple sauce? It's really good, honestly."

Rose finally nodded. "Okay, maybe just a bit."

Eagerly, Geoff handed the apple sauce to her, but accidentally knocked over a bowl of steaming peas in the process. The result: a pandemonium of small green balls. Amy couldn't help but splutter, spraying lemonade across the table. James raised his eyebrows as she burst into laughter (Geoff was apologizing profusely to Rose now, picking the peas up off the tabletop). The adults hadn't seemed to notice, especially Mrs Weasley- though spilled peas being ignored by her was a first- as she was clattering about with soup spoons and bowls, trying to feed the five parents, two grandparents, and seven children that were all squashed around her dining room table.

"What's so funny?" hissed James.

"N-nothing," said Amy, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

"Amy, what is it?" he pressed.

"It's just… it's just that…" Albus was glaring at Geoff now, and Amy cracked up again.

"I'm getting old here," James said irritably.

She turned to him, smiling. "I think," she whispered, "that our two brothers are –"

At that moment, Rose complimented the apple sauce, and Geoff turned a deep burgundy colour. Amy broke out into peals of laughter again. James looked over at Geoff and Albus, followed their gazes and-

"Oh," he said knowingly. _"Oh."_

Amy looked over at Rose. She was quite pretty, she had to admit, with Hermione's dark hair, although it wasn't as bushy, and deep brown eyes. She was slender, too, clever, and had a sense of humour that her mother didn't quite approve of. And she happened to be in the same year as both of them, a third year, thirteen going on fourteen.

"Who d'you reckon she'll like?" James asked. "Albus or Geoff?"

They both looked at each other. "Albus," said Amy, at the same time that James said "Geoff." They both burst into laughter.

"Five Knuts?" Amy joked, and he grinned.

"I feel bad taking your money like this," he replied.

Hugo leaned over. "What're you betting now?" he asked.

"It looks like our brothers," James said, "are both _smitten _with your sister."

Hugo's fork fell with a clatter onto his plate. He glanced at Geoff, then at Albus, then at Rose. His grin widened.

Mrs Weasley bustled over. "D'you like the potatoes, Hugo? Here, have some more."

"Thanks," breathed Hugo, who at this point was looking as though Christmas had come early.

Once she was gone, James chuckled. "Well. This is one hell of a love triangle."

"Rose, Geoff and Al?" Hugo nodded in agreement. "That's just as weird as… I don't know, you two getting together. I mean, not likely!"

Hugo leaned away, and there was a very awkward pause.

"Apple sauce?" offered James eventually, grinning, causing Amy to break out into laughter again.

Mrs Weasley appeared to have finally sat down, and the table fell silent.

"A toast," Mr Weasley said, "to the three families here tonight. The Potters, the Weasleys, and the Long– I say," he suddenly said, looking confused. "There are three Longbottoms missing. Where's Luna and Neville and their little boy…?"

Amy suddenly felt hot. Of course. The two elderly Weasleys had yet to be told about what had happened to Aaron. Everyone else looked worryingly at both Geoff, who seemed to have frozen, and Amy.

"Ah, _Aaron, _that was his name!" Mr Weasley said happily. He looked around, blinking. "What's wrong? Did I say something?"

"Dad," said Ron in a warning tone.

Amy shook her head. "It's all right," she said. "Mr Weasley, my parents are looking for Aaron, so I'm afraid you won't see much of them… until he's found."

Mr Weasley looked troubled. "But where has he gone?"

And that was a question only Amy could answer.

* * *

It was settled. The children were to stay at the Weasley Sr.'s house until Christmas. Four days. They had had enough children– seven, in fact– to house all of the children here now, though two had to share, as Fred and George had. Unsurprisingly, both Geoff and Albus volunteered to share a room with Rose, but as it turned out, it had to be Albus and Geoff themselves, since, Mrs Weasley said, they were volunteering so profusely.

Amy went in to see Geoff some hours later, so that, admittedly, she could tease him about Rose. But when she walked into his and Albus' room, he was nowhere to be found.

"Al, d'you know where Geoff is?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Don't know. He hasn't come in for a while. Maybe he's brushing his teeth, or something. Or he's writing his Transfiguration essay for McGonnagall, which was supposed to be handed in three days ago. She wants it sent by owl," he added at Amy's mystified look.

"Oh, thanks."

Annoyed, she asked around for Geoff, and when no-one had seen him, she returned grouchily to her own room. She stopped, though, when she suddenly heard someone utter his name. She stepped back. Geoff's name came again.

From _Rose's _room.

Eyes widening, she leant down so she could peer through the keyhole. And there, standing in the middle of the room, Geoff's lips were pressed to Rose's. Amy's head snapped back, away from the keyhole. _That was quick. _She heard footsteps coming up behind her, and spun around. What was her excuse for looking through Rose's–

"Hey, Ames."

It was just James. She exhaled, relieved.

"Amy, what are you–"

"_Shh," _she interrupted. "Geoff's in there. He's, um… they're kissing."

James looked shell-shocked. _"Who? _Geoff and Albus?" he burst out. He had obviously mistaken Rose's room for the one their brothers were sharing. "Oh, God. That's–" He pushed Amy aside, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. "I'm going to have to–"

"No!" Amy hissed, but it was too late.

James pushed open the door. Inside, Geoff and Rose leapt away from each other, blushing furiously. James instantly saw his mistake. He looked back at Amy, who was still crouching on the ground, shamefaced. Geoff caught sight of her too, and, if it were possible, his blush deepened.

James grinned, and Amy wondered how he could keep his calm in such an embarrassing moment. "That was quick, Geoff."

_My sentiments exactly, _thought Amy.

He turned to her. "Amy, I guess you owe me Five Knuts."

She smiled back, standing up. "You can have your money back, James, from when I snowballed you." Then she grabbed his sleeve and pulled him out of the room. "Bye, you two," she said, laughing. "Have fun. And Geoff?"

He was mortified, but still managed to croak: "Yes?"

"Remember, Mrs Weasley's coming to tuck you in–" Amy looked at her watch. "–in five minutes."

* * *

"I just don't know what _Albus _is going to say when he finds out," Amy said later on that night. "He's probably going to hate my brother."

"He won't," James said. "Those two are really good friends. He'll put up with it. And Amy?"

"Yes?"

"Could you please move over?" he asked. "I'm falling off the edge of the bed."

"Oh, sorry."

She pulled cushions out of the way, and pressed herself against the wall. James edged further in, and, as a drought rattled the windows, he pulled the duvet around himself.

"So anyway," Amy went on. "I still can't get my head around it. Geoff and Rose?"

James laughed softly. "I know. It's weird. And you know what else is weird, Amy?"

"What?" she said.

"You're really good at flying. I mean it," said James. "You... you _do_ like it, don't you?"

She remembered that feeling of freedom, of flying, of soaring through the air… She had been happy. Blissfully happy.

"Yeah, I do like it." She was surprised.

"You would make a pretty good Chaser, then," he said. "You should try out next term. Seriously, you're really good."

She blushed. "No, I'm not. Besides, I've only flown twice."

"Shows you're a _natural,_" he said, chuckling. "You _have _to trial. Remember what I said to Geoff? I have a good eye for good players, Amy."

"In any case, there aren't trials next term," she chuckled. "Trials are once a year, James. I thought you of all people would know that."

"Yeah, but one of our Chasers, Felicity Hunter… she just had that accident, remember?"

Amy did remember, only too well. Felicity was in the year below them, and, two weeks ago, she was using a bus– something Muggles used to get around– and it crashed. Unfortunately, Felicity's arm was crushed in the wreckage (the bus had fallen on its side) and some Muggles had decided to… to _chop it off _in order to be able to transport her safely to hospital. Now she was incapable of playing Quidditch until her arm was grown back, something that Professor McGonnagall had announced to the school as 'Two months in St. Mungo's.

"And," went on James, "Nadia Klein, another Chaser, is moving back to Germany. Oh, and Larry Smith, Beater, joined the Wizard's Chess Club, which coincides with Quidditch practise. So, Dan McMillan, Gryffindor Quidditch captain, decided we needed a retrial next term."

"Sounds fair," said Amy, smiling weakly.

"Sounds like Gryffindor's Quidditch team is having a rough time." James grinned. "Which is why you should trial."

"They'll laugh at me," she said.

"Maybe they will laugh at you," said James. "But if they _do _laugh at you, it'll be before you get on your broom and show them that they're wrong."

"Then maybe I will," she said.

She looked up at him, and suddenly she realized that she was pressed up against him in the small bed, her hand on his chest. His eyes smouldered in the darkness, and her heartbeat flickered.

"James…" she whispered.

And then he was leaning in closer to her, his warm hand on her cheek, his thumb tracing her jawline and–

The door burst open.

"Hide!" she hissed, and James threw the duvet cover over himself, looking mortified.

"Amy, I need to talk to you." It was Geoffrey. "It's about what you saw earlier."

He strode closer to the bed, and Amy shifted uncomfortably.

"Maybe in the morning, Geoff," she said. "I'm… I'm, uh, really tired and–"

"No, now," he said. "Can I sit on your bed?"

"No!" Amy half screamed. She cleared her throat, and felt James move his legs. "Here. Sit here, on the end of the bed."

Geoff sat on the end of the bed, where James' legs previously had been. He sighed. "Look, Amy."

"I know you were snogging Rose–" He winced. "– in her room, Geoff. It's fine. It's all out in the open."

"But what was that about James saying you owed him?" he asked. "Was there like a _bet _between you two, or something?" He sounded angry all of a sudden.

"No, it was just a joke, Geoff," she said. "We figured out that you and Albus liked her earlier, at dinner, and we were just… you know, joking."

"_Albus?" _he exclaimed. "What's this got to do with Al?"

Amy felt like kicking herself.

"Um, nothing," she backtracked quickly. "Forget I said anything, Geoff."

He didn't seem convinced, but, thankfully, let it drop. "I just thought you'd find it strange," he said. "Me and Rose… well, we like each other. And I knew that you of all people would think it was weird, but we do. I bet you and James could get together if you wanted to, since you two are best friends. Because that's how we feel about each other, like best friends, but one step more."

Amy was the one wincing now. "Geoff, you have no idea how degrading that is. I just received _love advice _from my younger brother. About my _best friend._"

Geoff's face flushed a deep red. "Oh, I'm sorry, Ames… I didn't realize."

"It's fine, Geoff." She smiled. "I'm only joking."

The door suddenly burst open again, and Amy kicked Geoff off the bed.

"Geoff, under the desk!" she hissed. "Get under the _desk!"_

He hurriedly crawled under the desk. Amy looked up to see who had come into her room _now. _It was Rose. Amy heard Geoff's quick intake of breath, and shot him a glare.

"Amy, I'm so sorry you saw what you saw," she said, tearing up. "I didn't mean for you to… It's just that I really like Geoff… he's so funny and nice and–"

"Rose, it's fine," Amy said, choosing her words carefully. "I think he likes you, too. He seems to, anyway."

Her tears instantly dried up. "Really?"

"I mean, look at you," she went on. "You're pretty, you're clever, you're funny… you two are perfect for each other! I should've thought you'd get together at some stage. And _I'm _sorry for our interruption. Don't be embarrassed, though. It's all done, happened, in the past. We can't change it now."

She looked like she was about to say something more, but there were two knocks on the door, then. Amy could feel James shaking with laughter under the covers.

"Rose, hide behind the curtains," she ordered. Then, "Come in."

In came Lily, bawling. "Amy," she sobbed. "A-Amy, I had a… a bad d-dream, and J-James isn't in his r-room, so I came t-to find y-you…"

She dashed to the bed, and, thankfully, sat where Geoff had, inches away from James. Amy patted her shoulder.

"Lily, don't worry," she said. "It was just a dream. Shh, it's not real… You can, um, sleep here if you want to."

Her eyes shone with tears when she glanced up at Amy. "Really?"

She was asleep as soon as she lay down, curled up at the bottom of the bed.

And then–shock horror!– the door burst open once more. It was Albus. In one fluid motion, Amy placed the duvet over the sleeping Lily. He marched into the room, only stopping when he was a few feet away from her bed. Amy was having a hard time stopping James from breaking out into fits of laughter.

"Amy," said Albus in a rough voice, "I _know _you know that I like–"

"Yes, I do," Amy cut in quickly, strongly aware of Rose and Geoff, who were listening intently. "Yes, I do know, and you probably know that… _what you want_ is currently unavailable."

"But I really like R–"

"I know, Al," she said. "But someone is already, um, _taking care of it."_

She hoped that he would understand… that he would catch her drift… But Albus was just looking at her with a strange expression.

"Amy, I just want to tell you that–"

Amy faked a loud yawn, drowning out his voice. "In the morning, Al. I'm really tired."

"I just really need you to know that–"

If it were possible, her door burst open for the fifth time. Hugo stood in the doorway, looking confused.

"Is there a party in here, or what?" he asked. "My room's right next to yours, Amy, and I swear I've heard everyone's voice in the past ten minutes."

"No," she said hastily. "No, no, no. I was just, um, talking to Albus about something, that's all."

Hugo arched his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yes," Amy said. "It's just me and Al in here."

Hugo flicked the light switch, and Amy's heart sunk. Geoff was easily visible now, Rose's feet protruded from below the curtains, and in Amy's bed were two huge lumps besides her own. Feeling defeated, she pulled back the covers to show Lily. James emerged too, grinning. Rose stared at Geoff. He winked back. She smiled. Albus gawked at everyone, especially Rose, and it suddenly hit him why Amy had not really been making any sense.

"So," Hugo said, "There _is _a party."

**_So.... anything to say, anyone? If you do, press that little green button down there, and an email will come to me saying you've reviewed and you will make my day!_**

**_Please?_**


	9. Christmas

**_This is just a REALLY quick chapter, just gets stuff moving a bit.... and I'd like everyone to know that I'm working on BOTH this and 'pure as me', a max ride fanfic, at the same time, but I'm posting them one after the other._**

**_Enjoy!_**

**Christmas**

Have you ever heard phrase _time flies quickly when you're having fun? _That was exactly what had happened. In all the excitement of the snow, four days slipped past quickly, and all too soon, it was the morning of the twenty fifth of December.

"Get up!" yelled Geoff, sticking his head through the crack in her door. "It's Christmas, Amy! Wake _up_!"

He ran off, yelling at everyone else to 'Get up!', and Amy glanced at her watch. It was just past seven. She smiled, suddenly awake, and slipped into a pair of shoes before running downstairs. Even now, at nearly sixteen, Christmas made her feel like a young child again.

"Amy!" Lily called as Amy came down the stairs. "Happy Christmas!"

She grinned. "Happy Christmas."

All of the children were already awake, and Geoff threw a huge, long package, wrapped in glittery red paper, at her. "Open up, Ames."

She tore it open to find… a broomstick. It was of a deep bronze colour, with a smooth shaft, and in gold lettering on the side it read _Swiftshot 5000. _Geoffrey whistled. Who had given her a _Swiftshot? _She caught sight of a card attached:

__

-Amy-

Thought you'd want this if you were going to become part of the team.

Merry Christmas and hope the New Year is amazing!

James

Geoff, reading it over her shoulder, frowned. "You're going to become part of the team?" he asked. "James, what're you…?" Then he remembered Amy's sudden knack at flying. "Oh. Right."

She grinned, and hugged James. "Thanks, this must've cost a lot."

He shrugged, and she could've sworn that she saw a hint of a blush on his cheeks. "It was the best thing I could think of to buy for you."

"What am I going to do with my _Dreamflame?"_ Amy chuckled.

Then she suddenly remembered… two days ago, Albus had nose-dived, but swerved accidentally into a shed. His broom had splintered, snapping in two.

"Albus?" she offered.

"Really?" Albus beamed. "Thanks. My broom's dead."

Then she saw a smaller package, also addressed to her, and she opened it. It was a pale blue jumper with the letter A in the middle, in a darker blue. She looked around to see that most of the others were wearing similar jumpers.

"Mrs. Weasley?" she asked, and they all nodded. "So she's still keeping up the tradition."

Geoff handed her a few more presents. The first was from him, a giant (it was bigger than her face) lollipop from Honeydukes, which he claimed to have been the last one in stock. The second was from Rose, a small red purse with gold clasps ('It's Gryffindor colours,' she had explained). The third, another giant lollipop from Honeydukes from Hugo, raising an argument between Hugo and Geoff, since he had said he was sure that it was the only one in stock… Amy glanced at James, then. Naturally, both of them didn't believe him. And her fourth present, which looked devastatingly familiar… _another _lollipop from Albus. Lily gave her a pretty grey scarf, which Amy said she loved.

"This is from Mum and Dad," said Geoff, and handed her another huge present.

Once unwrapped, she saw that it was a shiny owl's cage. The card read:

Amy, darling,

Happy Christmas!

We noticed Myst's cage was getting a little old and a little dirty, so here's a new one! Love you both and miss you.

Love Mum and Dad

"Myst!" she called, and sure enough, the silver owl appeared. "Look what Mum and Dad got you!"

The owl hooted her approval, and came forwards to inspect it further.

"And this is the last one," Geoff said. His voice somehow seemed to be quieter, and he looked away.

Amy unwrapped the last present. It was two things: a thin book titled '_Tricksters; whatever you need, whenever you need' _and a photo album filled with pictures of everyone she knew. She read the card, and the tears came.

__

Amy,

Merry Christmas and have a BRILLIANT New Year!

I hope you like the book; maybe now you can learn something from me, rather than me always learning stuff from you! Ha ha! I love you really, though, of course!

I thought the other thing might be nice too, since you're always talking about getting a photo album, so you can take everyone you love wherever you go. Ahh! I sound like such a ditz! Well, it's what I think, so there you go. Just make sure no-one else reads that last part!

Love ya forever Ames,

xox Ron xox

(That's Aaron, just in case you

thought it was Hugo's Dad!)

* * *

Amy was curled up on the sofa, crying softly, when James came.

"Hey there," he said. "What's wrong?"

"They still haven't found him, James," she said quietly. "Aaron's not here. He missed _Christmas."_

"They'll find him, Ames," he said.

"It's been more than a _week, _James." She buried her head into the woollen J of his jumper. "A _week. _What if he's… what if he's _dead?"_

"He's fine, Ames." But she detected the hint of worry in his voice. "He's not dead. You know him; he's the type that'll survive _anything. _He's probably snarling back at the Red-caps he threw out of a cave!"

"But he might not be," she retorted. "He's probably cold and hungry and wishing he was here with us…"

"Amy, we're going back home… well, to _my _house in a few minutes, so do you want to meet your parents there?" he asked. "They might, you know, have some more information..."

It all suddenly came crashing back. They were going back. Harry's office would be there. And so would the_ Marauder's Map…_

"No, it's fine," she said weakly. "I just… I'll see them some other time. I don't really feel like seeing them today. I'm a mess."

"You sure?"

She nodded.

"Okay, but we're going _now_, Amy. My parents are waiting for us outside." He grabbed her bag. "You coming?"

She wiped the tears from her eyes. "Yeah. Of course."

* * *

"The thing is, Dad," James was saying to Harry, "We've made a discovery."

"A discovery, James?"

He leaned across the table, and with one hand patted Amy's shoulder. "Amy here isn't bad on a broom, Dad. I reckon she'd make a fair Chaser."

Even Harry looked surprised. _"Amy?" _he spluttered, looking up from the Quibbler, the business that her own mother, Luna, ran, now that Xenophilius Lovegood, her grandfather, had passed away.

Amy's cheeks burned. His surprise was so evident.

"Thanks," she said sarcastically.

"No, Amy," Harry quickly said. "I just meant-"

She shook her head, smiled. "It's fine. Everyone else has had the same reaction."

But James wouldn't let it go. "She's _amazing, _Dad. I'm making her trial for the team."

"James," said Harry uneasily, "are you sure?"

"She has a good broom, too," went on James. "A _Swiftshot 5000, _the same as mine_."_

Harry's eyes widened. Amy frowned. Wasn't he going to tell his father that he was the one who had bought it for her?

"Amy," said Harry, "if you really want to trial, then I'm not stopping you. No one is. But-"

"Dad, you've never seen her on a broom, have you?" James said. Harry shook his head no. "Well then, you can't judge. She took everyone by surprise. _And _she's got a good aim."

Harry chuckled. "Well if that's the case, good luck, Amy!"

She smiled. "Thanks, Uncle Harry."

**_This was quite a short chapter, but still, I'd like to know when and where I went wrong/right... so, if you could take just a few seconds of your time and review for me, I will love you forever!_**


	10. The Marauders Map

_**So... will she end up stealing the map? Won't she? ... Read on!**_

**T****he Marauders Map**

Amy woke up feeling exhausted, the day after Christmas, to find a note, scribbled in James' handwriting, plastered to her bedside table. Yawning, her eyes scanned it.

Ames,

We left you, because you were asleep… I didn't want to wake you when you looked so tired!

Don't worry, we'll be back at nine at the latest. Mum thought we were low on supplies, and so we all had to go. If you need anything, just help yourself.

James

She sat up with a jolt. They were _all _gone? So the house was empty? She couldn't think of a more perfect time to find the map. Although, even now, after more than a week of thinking it over, she was still arguing both sides. James would never trust her again if she was caught, and she would hate for his family to fall out with hers… But then, with a pang she remembered Aaron, and she knew she had no choice.

Amy didn't bother changing, but simply crept out of her room.

"Hello!" she called out, just in case.

She looked down at her watch. It was quarter past eight. She had more than enough time.

"Hello!" she shouted again. "Is anyone here?"

No answer.

Feeling guilt-ridden, Amy tiptoed in the direction of Harry's office. If he had anything of value, it would surely be kept in here. She tried the door. Locked.

"_Alohomora," _she whispered, praying against all hopes that it would not work... but the door clicked open.

It almost felt too easy as she went towards his desk. She opened the drawers, which slid open one by one. She was looking for an old-looking, yellowed piece of parchment. The Marauders Map. Here and there, she caught sight of pieces of parchment, but either they were covered with writing or they looked too new. She looked at her watch again.

It was already half past eight.

"Come on, come on," Amy said desperately, filing through folders, scrambling through drawers. "It's got to be here somewhere."

_8:47_.

Amy swore under her breath.

Then all of a sudden, in the corner of her eye she caught sight of exactly what she was looking. An old, creased, yellowing piece of parchment. Letting out a relieved sigh, she closed the drawer, slipping the parchment into her pocket. The door creaked open.

Amy froze.

She spun around, expecting to see Harry or Ginny or James… but no one was there. Then there was a hiss.

She glanced downwards, and saw Spark, James' dark brown cat, glaring at her. He backed away, then sprinted off. Hurriedly, she left the office, and snuck back into her own room. Once there, she slipped into bed, and lay there, feeling the paper crumple slightly against the weight of her leg.

She heard the door downstairs open, and voices echoed up to her room. She quickly rolled over and feigned sleep. A moment later, James and Lily came into her room.

"Wake up, Amy," laughed Lily. "You're still sleeping! We got up _ages _ago, I can't believe you're still–"

"Amy," interrupted James. "Get _up! _Otherwise you won't get any breakfast..."

She slowly opened her eyes, rubbing them, and stretched, all the while feeling as though she would be found out any second.

"Sorry we had to leave," he apologized, although she saw the twitch of a playful smile on his face.

"No, it's fine," Amy said. Her voice was barely a whisper. She still couldn't get her head around what she had done.

From downstairs, Ginny called for Lily, and, rolling her eyes, she left.

_I have to get rid of this map as soon as I can, _Amy thought. _I need to get Aaron back…_

"James," she began, "what do you think about going to Hogsmeade sometime?"

As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized the double meaning behind it. Maybe to him it sounded like she was asking him out on a date. A _date!_ The colour rose in her cheeks.

"Uh," James said, suddenly looking awkward.

He had buried both of his hands in his pockets, and was rocking backwards and forwards on the soles of his feet. It seemed like he thought exactly that. _But, _she thought angrily, _wasn't he going to kiss me the other day, in my room? If we were going to do... that, why can't he even accept that _– _Oh. Maybe... maybe he wasn't planning on kissing me. Maybe I'm mistaken. My imagination was probably just running away with me. Merlin knows it can be a bit over-active. God. How embarrasing. But I thought... No. He's my best friend! I can't just ruin that for something else!_

"Not as a _date _or anything," Amy quickly said. His head snapped up. "I just thought it would be fun… Lily can come, too."

"Oh, right." He grinned at her, that crooked grin she loved so much… but his eyes were suddenly full of confusion. "Yeah, sure."

"When can we go?" she asked desperately. "This afternoon? Now?"

"_Now?" _

"Why not?"

"But there are only a few more days of the holdiay to go," he said. "School starts on the fifth, and we'll get to Hogsmeade sometime soon anyway..."

"James, please? It's... well I really _need _to go."

He looked bemused. "Well, if you really want to…"

"I do!" burst out Amy. "Please?"

"Then I'll ask Mum," said James. "I don't think she'll mind."

It was at breakfast that he asked Ginny, and her face instantly brightened.

"It will be good for you to be back near Hogwarts for a while," she said. "Maybe some of your friends will be there. Oh, and if you're there, could you pop into George's and say hi. And take Lily to Honeydukes, will you? She hasn't been since last year, and she's been begging me to take her."

"So can we leave soon?" Amy asked gladly.

"Soon. But not today, mind," she added to Amy's dismay. "Tomorrow."

* * *

Later that day, Harry's outraged cry startled the whole household.

"Where is it? I can't find it!" he bellowed. "I've been robbed!"

Ginny went rushing upstairs, and James who had been beating Amy mercilessly at Wizard's Chess, had looked up, startled. Amy put on a look of horror and disbelief.

"I wonder what's been stolen," he said in a hushed tone. "It must be something really important because Dad's usually quite a – "

"I can't bloody believe it!" roared Harry, drowning out his voice.

" – and he never really makes a big deal out of things. That must've been the first time I've heard him swear. It's always Uncle _Ron _that, you know, swears," continued James.

Amy felt herself drifting away from the conversation. Would she be found out? Surely she would. Harry Potter was an incredible wizard… he was the one who had vanquished the Dark Lord when he had been only two years older than her! She _would _be found out. And then... James would never forgive her, she would get the silent treatment; Harry and Ginny would forgive her, which would only make her feel worse; and if this got out in _Hogwarts... _What would happen to Dad? To Geoff? To _Aaron?_

"Amy? Amy, you're so quiet all of a sudden. _Ames. _Hello? Snap out of it."

Amy shook herself back into reality, and, at that moment, Ginny reappeared, coming down the stairs.

"Mum!" said James. "What's been stolen?"

She shook her head. "Nothing that important; just something he prizes."

"_What?" _He gave her a pointed look.

"It's nothing, James. Drop it."

"Tell me," he countered. "Please? I could help look."

"Mum, pretty please?" asked Lily. "A thousand times please?"

"Just tell us, Mum," said James.

"A… a map," she finally said.

"A _map?"_

She sighed, and sat down. "It's called the _Marauders Map, _James. Created by his father – your late grandfather – and Teddy's late father, Remus, and Dad's godfather, Sirius. It's one of the only things he has of his own father."

"What does it do, Mum?"

"It's… it's a map of Hogwarts, showing where everyone is, where secret entrances and exits from the school are…"

"That's _brilliant," _breathed James.

"Ha- your father," continued Ginny firmly, "will not give it to you, James, for _that _kind of use. Merlin knows you've been in enough trouble at school already?"

"Then what's he going to do with it?"

"If you must know," she snapped, "He uses it to keep an eye on you."

His mood change was instantaneous. He leapt up from his seat, his eyes flaming. "He's been _spying _on us?"

"James, sit down," she ordered. "James. He was worried for you."

"Worried?" he scoffed. "I'm a _fifth year. _When he was my age, he'd killed a Basilisk, he'd fought off Dementors, he'd won the _Triwizard Tournament, _he'd battled… battled _Voldemort. _What makes you think I'm any different, Mum? What makes you think I'm _weaker?"_

"Yes, worried," she said. "And we don't think you're weak. We're just acting like _parents, _James."

Amy felt an increasing need to leave.

"Parents? Parents don't _spy _on their children!"

"Dad's been going through a rough time, James," she said. "Lately… no, nothing."

"What?" he almost shouted.

"James," she pleaded. "Sit down. Listen to me. Dad's just –"

"Mum, what's been happening lately?" He glowered at her. "And I don't want any more lies."

"I'm worried about him," she said quietly. "Lately his… his scar's been bothering him a little."

"His _scar?" _James slowly sat back down in his chair. "And… and this has something to do with the stolen map?"

"No, well… I don't know," said Ginny. "Maybe. But it's fine, James. There's some sort of code you need to use to make the map legible… then disappear. _I swear I'm doing good, _and _managed, _or something. I… don't really remember. So even if someone _did _get hold of it, they wouldn't be able to use it."

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," said Harry, coming down the stairs. "And mischief managed."

"That was it," she said. "Harry, is it there?"

He shook his head, and Amy could see from his posture that he was positively shaken. "No… I can't find it."

"Dad." James stood up again. His voice was full of scorn. "You were… _spying _on us?"

"I'm sorry, James," he said. "We were-"

"_Don't _say worried."

"Well we _were," _replied Harry. "We didn't want you in any sort of trouble, James. Or any of you… it wasn't just _you_ I kept an eye out for. Rose, Hugo, Albus, Lily, Amy…" He trailed off awkwardly.

Amy's face heated up. So did he know where Aaron was? She voiced her thoughts aloud.

"No," he said shakily. "I was going upstairs to check now… but it had gone. And either way, it would have shown only if he's in Hogwarts."

"Oh…" Her voice trailed off.

"I think," began Harry dully, "I'm going to go to bed."

"What about dinner? I was just about to cook," said Ginny. "It's only eight-thirty."

He shook his head and trudged back upstairs.

"Not hungry," agreed James, and followed him.

Amy went up after them, nervously fingering the map in her pocket. So it was a map of Hogwarts. She shut her door cautiously, and locked it, before hurrying over to her bed. Taking out her wand, she pulled out the map.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," she whispered.

Instantly, the map of Hogwarts appeared, ink darkening on the paper. On the front bloomed the words:

Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

Are proud to present

THE MARAUDER'S MAP

But when shedid a quick sweep of the map, she couldn't find anyone unusual. Aaron wasn't there, at least.

Sighing, she muttered "Mischief managed" although it had not, and she pushed the map back into her pocket. Silently anticipating the fact that she would be facing X tomorrow, she fell into a night of dreamless sleep.

* * *

They left the next morning (by Floo powder, of course) and appeared in the fireplace of George's shop. As soon as they had arrived, he welcomed them, thrusting various joke goods into their arms.

"Ton Tongue Toffees!" proclaimed George. "Still a bestseller! And look here, a joke quill, fever fudge… and my newest yet, chattering chocolate. You won't be able to stop talking until it wears off."

"Brilliant," grinned James. "How much?"

"It's on the house!" said George. "Take it, free of charge!"

"Mum says hi," quipped Lily, as James, his eyes wide, stuffed the goods into his pockets.

"How's she getting on?" he asked.

James sighed. "She's turning into Gran... what with all the cooking and cleaning… How's the business, by the way?"

"Great." George turned to Lily. "You haven't been here for a long time, have you?"

"Not since last year," she said. "Which is why you're going to take me to Honeydukes," she finished, tugging on James' sleeve.

"Go ahead," said George. "I've heard they've recently developed a new flavour of sherbet."

Lily shot out of the door at this, and apologizing to George, Amy and James followed. Now outside, Amy felt a shiver of nerves. She had to somehow slip away…

"Oh, is that Monica?" she said "James, I think it is. I'm just going to go over. You go to Honeydukes with Lily, I'll just be five minutes."

He looked like he was about to say something, but simply nodded. "Okay, I'll see you later."

"Bye."

As soon as James had disappeared into the sweet shop, Amy began sprinting in the other direction, fuelled by the thought that Aaron was waiting for her. She turned the corner, and there it was. The Hog's Head. She burst inside, and ran up to the man behind the counter.

"Can – I – go – up – to – room – 38, please?" she said, breathing heavily.

The man pointed to the right. "Up two flights of stairs, then take a left."

"Thanks," said Amy.

She hurried up the stairs, then took a sharp turn left. There, in front of her, was room 38. She took a deep breath, feeling a prickle of anticipation. Then she raised her arm and gave three quick raps on the door. It swung open, revealing a grubby room, completely empty save a bed, two armchairs facing a fireplace, a table, and a cupboard.

There was no sign of Aaron.


	11. The Fifth Marauder

**_Been a long time! I hope everyone still remembers the story, but here's a brief summary: Amy Longbottom - fifth year, Hogwarts - is the daughter of Neville and Luna, and has two brothers, one of whom went missing after she recieved a strange letter from a mysterious 'X', saying that he had a 'precious belonging' of hers, and would give it back if she stole The Marauder's Map from Harry Potter, and gave it to him in the Hog's Head. However, Harry Potter was, of course, a family friend, and, even worse - the father of her best friend, James Potter II... and possibly the boy she is falling more and more in love with...? But, against all odds, she stole the map, believing that the 'precious belonging' that 'X' had stolen was her youngest brother, Ron (Aaron), and has gone to meet him at the Hog's Head._**

**_Well. That's enough of my BLABBERING. So... as usual, read on!_**

**The Fifth Marauder**

"Amy." The voice was oddly familiar, yet she couldn't place it. "So you're here. With the map?"

She swallowed. "That depends whether you have Aaron."

The voice chuckled. "So you figured it out. Well, he is here."

"Where?" she fired back.

One of the armchairs creaked, and a figure rose up from it. He – for it was male – was wearing a black cloak which completely concealed his body, save his face. It was the face of a man nearing fifty, his striking pale eyes circled with black bags. He was strikingly familiar… she just didn't know how.

"Give it to me," he rasped. "Give me the map."

"Give me Aaron first," she said, trying to keep the tremor from her voice.

The man laughed. Amy couldn't help but back away slightly. "Amy, _I, _for one, want this to be a smooth exchange. But the exchange is going to go like this. You give me the Marauders Map, and I won't kill either of you."

"You said… you said in the letter that if I brought you the map, you'd give Aaron back. You didn't say anything about – " Amy hesitated. " – anything else."

He grinned, revealing even, white teeth, then pulled out a copy of the letter she had received.

"Miss Longbottom," he read. "I have something of yours you might want back. It is something of great value. In return, there is something that you must give me. I can see that you may not want to cooperate, but if not, then your precious little…belonging will never come back.

"The item in question is a certain map. It belongs to your friend James Potter's father, Harry. To the unsuspecting eye, it looks like a plain piece of parchment, slightly yellowed with age. However, it is extremely important that I come to own this, and I need you to steal it. Harry Potter will, no doubt, keep it close, or perhaps locked up somewhere. If you must know what it is called, I shall tell you. It is called The Marauders Map.

"If you are willing, come to room 38 in The Hog's Head. I'll be waiting. But, of course, there is a time limit. If you are not here by midnight of the seventh of January, with then I will get rid of your property and come to Hogwarts myself. I am sure neither of us do not want to let it come to that.

"Sincerely, X."

He turned to her. "If I read correctly, it says that if you didn't cooperate, your belonging – Aaron – would never come back. It didn't say anything about returning him to _you."_

For once, Amy was speechless.

"The map, Longbottom." He was now speaking in a sort of snarl. _"Now."_

"You won't be able to work it," she said, suddenly brave. If she was going to die, why not face it with the cocky sort of façade she generally had to anything in life? "You don't know how to work it."

"Actually, you'll find that I do." The stranger – X – pulled his wand from his cloak, and tapped it against the map. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he said, watching Amy's expression – a brief flash of horror – as the map of Hogwarts came into view.

"How did you…? No. I don't even want to know. Show me where Aaron is."

He ignored her. "There are secrets embedded deep in this map that _Harry Potter _– " He sneered at the name " – would never even dream of."

"What do you mean?" said Amy.

"I trust you've seen what happens when the map is… opened," the man said.

"The map appears," said Amy, "with the words –"

"Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, purveyors of aids to magical mischief-makers are proud to present the Marauder's Map," he finished. "Only, that isn't all that happens."

Amy was instantly interested.

"The four marauders or messrs or whatever they called themselves used to be the _five _marauders," he went on. "You probably know who Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs were."

Amy didn't answer. Of course she knew. She'd known ever since she'd learnt to speak.

"Moony was a man… no, a _werewolf," _he sniggered, "Named Remus Lupin; Wormtail was Peter Pettigrew; Padfoot was Sirius Black; and Prongs… Prongs was James Potter." The man paused, it seemed, for effect. "But there was another one. Talon. He was an Animagus, too, a large hawk."

"I've never even _heard_ of him,"she said.

"Oh, they did a good job of covering him up," said the man coldly. "Because, you see, while the four of them became more and more comfortable with Lupin's monthly… _problem, _Talon became more and more _un_comfortable. He knew what they were doing was illegal, and every month, one of them would get seriously injured while getting too close to Lupin in his state.

"So Talon, at first, stood up to them. They didn't like this at all, and when he pursued it further, they began to shun him. They began to make fun of him in class, and talked about him while in their house – for while all four of them were in Gryffindor, Talon was in Slytherin."

Amy scowled. Well, _that _was a bad sign.

"They slowly broke apart," he continued, "and Talon, who happened to be the most well-off, the cleverest, the _best _of the five marauders, quickly made other friends, friends who stood by him just as they once had. But they were enemies, then. The four marauders wanted nothing to do with Talon, especially James Potter and his _sidekick, _Black."

"So what's this got to do with the map?" said Amy.

"Talon helped to write the map," the man cut in. "But he added more to it. Things he never told the other four."

"So?" Amy cut in. "What good will that do you?"

"And Talon…" he continued, "was my father."

"Oh, God," she breathed.

The man tapped the map again, muttered something under his breath. More ink patterns began developing on the map, a map which began expanding slowly. It showed names, hundreds of thousands of names, dotted around a huge rectangle. Amy stiffened as she recognized shapes across the rectangle.

"That's… that's – "

"The entire world, yes," he said. "And there's more, Amy, much more…"

"So you have your map," Amy growled. "Can you let Aaron go now?"

The man didn't listen. Instead, he began advancing towards her, wand in hand, leaving the map on the table beside him. She froze, as his lips curled.

Then suddenly it struck her.

She knew how he had seemed so familiar to her. That blonde hair, that pale skin… those eyes. This man was the spitting image of Turvulus Malfoy.

"Malfoy," she said under her breath.

The man came to an abrupt halt, and stared at her.

"What did you just say?" he whispered.

"Malfoy," said Amy. "Turvulus Malfoy, but older… You look like him."

"You know Turvulus?" The man showed a hint of surprise.

"Yes, I know him," she said with a scowl. "Oh, I know him."

He didn't reply, and, all of a sudden, it dawned on her.

"You're… you're his father, the one who works in the Ministry… David, or something. No, _Draco._ You're Draco Malfoy. So that Talon you were talking about must be _your _father, Turvulus' grandfather… _Lucius _Malfoy."

There was a silence while the man stood there, glaring at her.

"Lucky guess," he finally scoffed. "Shame you won't be living long enough to tell anyone, though." He raised his wand again. "I now remember Turvulus told me so much about you. "

"Did he mention how I hate foul, snide, stuck-up Malfoys?" she fired back. "It's no wonder the other four marauders soon hated him."

"No, but he did mention how irritating you were… with your prying, idiotic ways." Draco Malfoy pointed his wand at her.

"_Incendio!" _she bellowed, flourishing her own wand.

A column of flame shot from her wand, and Malfoy had to quickly use "Protego!"to protect himself.

"He also mentioned how you were quick to use violence to solve any problem," snickered Draco Malfoy, "And... what was it? Oh - how you talked too much. He told me an awful lot about you, Amy."

"_He _can talk," she fired back. "He's the one who gets his wand out for the smallest things, and tries to wheedle his way out of _anything_ using that greasy little mouth of his."

"Well," said Malfoy, "He doesn't have to worry you any longer, Amy. Let's just end this now."

Amy quickly made for the window, but Malfoy was too fast. "Impedimenta!" he shouted, and Amy's feet slipped out from beneath her, and she fell to the floor.

"Stupefy!" cried Malfoy.

"Protego," she choked out, and a shield appeared in front of her. The stunning spell bounced off, ricocheting into the wall instead, which shuddered.

She stood up. _"Obscuro!" _she screamed, just as Malfoy yelled, _"Glacius!" _

In a fleeting second, she remembered that her last duel had been with Turvulus Malfoy, this man's son. She had made her way out of that one alive… admittedly with a few broken bones, but still, _alive…_

"Stupefy!" Malfoy shouted again, and this time, the spell hit its mark, and Amy was thrown backwards.

She struggled to her feet. "Just let Aaron go," she croaked.

He ignored her. _"Duro!"_

She dodged the spell, and, pointing her wand at her own throat, uttered "Sonorus", then, dodging another spell, took a deep breath, and yelled _"JAMES!"_

With the effect of _Sonorus, _her voice was magically magnified to one hundred times it's normal volume, and her ears were ringing afterwards. _"JAMES!" _she bellowed again. _"HELP!"_

"Enough," Malfoy snapped. _"Obscu – "_

"Protego!" she shouted, and it came out like a thundering roar.

"Reducto!" he cried out, and she felt herself slam into the wall. Her eyelids began to flutter shut, but she tried to hold them open… they were sliding shut again. All she could see was fuzziness, and as Malfoy approached with a smile, she knew that this would probably be the end. He raised his wand, opened his mouth.

"_AMY!" _came a shout, and the door crashed open.

James and a very surprised Hog's Headowner were staring at them. Cursing, Malfoy grabbed the map and disapparated.

"Amy!" cried James again, rushing over to her.

But her eyes were losing focus again, and James was going blurry… Her eyes slid shut, plunging her into darkness.

* * *

**_So there you go. A chapter after AGES of nothing. Surely that gets a review? PLEASE???_**

**_To make my day? :)_**


	12. Everything

_**So, here it is. Chapter 12. Hope you all enjoy!**_

**Everything**

_I sit up slowly, looking around. There's nothing here – only the soft blue light that is coming from somewhere….I don't know where, though. My legs start moving of their own accord, forcing me forwards. _

_The wind is cold against my face as I run, battering my raw, painful head. I wonder why it hurts so much. I try to remember, but nothing comes. Suddenly I stumble. The ground is soft, and cushions my fall, and I glance back angrily, to see what has interrupted my beautiful, unbroken run._

_It is a sphere. A black polished sphere. There is nothing special about it, I think to myself. Just a stone. Then my hand reaches out to stroke it's smooth surface._

_I take a sharp intake of breath, and pull my whole arm back in alarm. My fingers burn from where I touched it, and suddenly, I see it transform before me, growing larger… until it becomes the face of Turvulus Malfoy, looking at me as though I am an ugly Blast-Ended Skrewt. And then it transforms again, to become his father – my attacker – and I flinch away. And, just as I am about to move away, it begins to transform again… becoming the familiar face of my best friend. I smile, and reach out my hand again, now to stroke the edge of his face._

_My fingers brush his skin._

_Then, suddenly, __I collapse on the ground, convulsing in pain, wondering what had happened. I cradle my head, now more sharply aware of the pain, and I hear something._

"_Amy," it's saying. "Amy__, wake up!"_

_ There's another voice, sweeter, lighter, than the other. _"_Amy!"_

"_Ames__!"_

"_Amy__!"_

* * *

"Amy, come on! Wake up!"

I let out a groan in response.

"Good, good," said another voice. "She's coming-to."

"Ames, open your eyes!"

Unwillingly, she pried her eyes open, rubbing her fingers against her sore scalp. Figures blurred into view before her, and she looked groggily back at them. There, standing all around her were Uncle George, Aunt Ginny, Uncle Harry, Lily… and James.

"Amy – good, you're awake," Aunt Ginny said. "You've been out for two days, you know."

"_Two days?" she_ repeated in a whisper. Then Amy started awake, feeling her whole body erupt in pain. She winced. "What… what happened?"

"James found you in… er… The Hog's Head, down in the bar," explained Aunt Ginny. _The bar? _She glanced over at James, and he looked away. "According to him, you were after your friend Monica Hayweather, and you seem to have been running very fast, because you tripped down a set of stairs, and must've hit your head quite hard, Amy, because you were knocked unconscious."

She tried to smile, and went with it. "Sorry. I was… I wanted to see her, so…"

"Well." Uncle Harry cleared his throat. "You seem to be getting better; only a few more days in bed, and you should be back to your normal self."

Uncle George grinned. "And then you can get back on your Swiftshot. I heard about that while you were out. Imagine that – Amy Longbottom on a broom! Almost as strange as imagining Neville or Luna –" He hesitated, glancing down at Amy, who had turned bright red.

"_Anyway,"_ said Aunt Ginny. "You probably want some rest; we'll leave you alone. Come on now, Lily."

They all trooped out of the room – which Amy now recognized as one of the newly redecorated rooms in Number 12, Grimauld Place – apart from James.

He shifted uncomfortably.

"So," he said. "How're you feeling?"

She faced him, confused. "Why did you lie? You didn't find me in the _bar. _And you saw… him, didn't you?"

"I wanted you to tell me what was going on between the two of you," he snapped back, _"Before _I told them what was up. Imagine what'd happen if I said that you were up in a room in the Hog's Head with a man that I didn't know… What kind of conclusions would they come to, Ames?"

_"_James, they'd just..."_ s_he trailed off. Then her cheeks suddenly burned in revelation. "No… Oh, God, no. I wasn't– James, you've _got _to believe me. I _was _doing something with him, but not… not… not _that."_

"Then what _were _you doing?" he yelled. " God, Amy. Why can't you tell me?"

"I just can't, all right?" she said. "I… I would if I could, honestly… but I _can't."_

"Sure you can," said James. "You can tell me anything, Ames. I'll… I'll understand. Was he… Was he hurting you?"

She shot him an incredulous look, and he immediately backtracked, remembering the duel. "Well… I meant –"

"James," she said. "I trust you and everything, but this is just one thing I need to keep to myself."

"But… we tell each other _everything," _he protested.

She raised her eyebrows. "Everything?"

"Well… yeah, 'course," he said. "So _tell _me –"

"So there's nothing you've kept to yourself?" she said. "Nothing at all? James, can you look me in the eye and say that you, truthfully, have nothing to tell me, right now… nothing that you've been keeping a secret from me."

She knew that _she_ had. But… if she hadn't been imagining the way he had _almost _kissed her that night in the Weasleys Sr.'s, then… then… So did he.

"James," she pressed. "If we tell each other everything, then surely there's nothing you've been hiding from me. Because… because if there _is, _now is the chance to say."

He hesitated. "Amy, there's… No." He swallowed, then forced a grin. "No, Ames. Nothing at all. I tell you everything that concerns the two of us, 'course I do."

She didn't – _couldn't – _reply.

"Ames?" he said. "So? Will you tell me what you were doing?"

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I really, truly can't."

He looked annoyed. "Why not?"

"Because if I do," she whispered. "You'll… you'll – I just _can't, _James. You'll _hate me."_

She felt tears pricking at the backs of her eyes. He looked somewhat startled.

"Ames," he said softly. "I could _never _hate you."

"No." Her voice could barely be heard, she was trying so hard not to cry. "James, you would. You really, really would."

"Amy." Now, he was looking at her intently, one hand extending towards her own. "It's not possible."

His skin grazed hers, and she felt something inside of her snap. Hot tears came streaking down her cheeks, and she pulled her aching hand away from under his.

"James," she said. "I need some time to think."

He stared at her teary face in horror. "Amy, seriously… What's wrong? What did that guy do to you?"

"It's got nothing to do with him," she said, her voice trembling. "James, please leave."

He hesitated again, then nodded, and, reluctantly left the room, leaving her all on her own to cry.

Their words stuck deep in her mind, every echo of them like a sharp, sharp knife twisting its way into her brain.

_James, if we tell each other everything, then surely there's nothing you've been hiding from me. Because… because if there is, now is the chance to say._

…_No, Ames. Nothing at all._

* * *

**_This one was a bit shorter than usual, but I still hope it deserves a few reviews... What do you say??? Review or no review??_**

**_REVIEW..?_**


	13. The Kiss

**_I'm guessing most of you saw the title of this chapter and all sorts of ideas blossomed...? Well. You'll have to wait and see... Everything might not be as it seems...._**

**_Wow. I sound like such a PHILOSOPHER. Go me._**

**_Or it might be. You never know. It could be some sort of ruse to get the thoughts going. BUT. There's only way to find out, and that's..._**

**_Anyway. Enough of me. You didn't click on this to find out about ME. Let's get back to Amy and the Hogwarts crew._**

**The Kiss**

Amy spent the whole of the day locked up in her room, going over everything in her head. She was trying to decipher every detail of the conversation she and Draco Malfoy had had in the Hog's Head, and where on earth Aaron could possibly be. But, try as she might to only think of Aaron and Malfoy, James kept springing to mind. In fact, the harder she struggled to _not _think of him, the more stubborn her mind became, feeding her more and more memories of the past few days with him.

It was exhausting.

But what should - _could -_ she do? He was evidently angry at her for not telling him what she had been doing, but at the same time he was convinced that she needed comforting, that Malfoy had, in some other way, hurt her more – perhaps emotionally – than just the duelling.

She was unaware of having drifted asleep at some point in her contemplation, but the next thing she knew, she was being nudged awake by none other than James, who was telling her that it was dinnertime and there was something else going on, and did she want to come down?

She shook her head no. She still felt tired – too tired to move – and, besides, Amy knew that if she got out of bed, he would no doubt ask her, once again, about the 'mystery man'.

She fell asleep again, and it felt like barely seconds had passed, when he was back, murmuring 'Happy New Year'. No more than half a minute later, Geoff – she had no idea that he had come here, to Grimauld Place – was in the room, grinning, and shaking her awake.

"WAKE UP, AMY!" he bellowed into her ear.

She sat bolt upright. "Wha' time is it?"

"Er… half nine," said Geoff. "Come on, come on. You missed _everything."_

For an instant, she felt a surge of hope. Geoff was looking euphoric, so could it be... could it possibly be...? An image shot through her mind – her parents with Aaron, laughing together, saying that they had found him, and he was safe.

Was he back?

"What?" she asked. "What did I miss?"

"New Year's," he said, and she felt her heart sink. "Rose and Hugo, and their parents came over – with me and Albus, too, 'course – and Uncle George, too… Oh, and so did Monica and Brooke Hayweather, and we were all downstairs, you know, having a New Year party."

Amy felt a pang. They had had a party without telling her... But then she remembered James saying something about something going on… he must have mentioned the party, and in her exhaustion, it wouldn't have really sunk in…

And the twins were there? _Why?_

She voiced this thought aloud.

"No reason, really," he chatted on. "They were just passing by with their parents, and Aunt Ginny caught sight of them… her parents were in her year back at Hogwarts, apparently, and so they were friends," he added. "Anyway, she invited them in, and so they came. I expect Monica and Brooke were expecting to see you, but we told them everything that happened. Monica was really confused, though – she said she hadn't been _near _Hogsmeade yesterday."

She looked up sharply. _Had they found out…?_

* * *

But Geoff's voice cut in again, relieving her. "You probably just mistook her for another person , that's all."

"Oh," was all she said. "So? How was it?"

"Well," he said. "It was great fun, wasn't it, James?"

For some reason, James had suddenly turned a shade reminiscent of one of their house colours. He looked away, and mumbled something incoherent.

Geoff glanced over at him, and his grin widened.

"So?" she asked again. "What did you guys do?"

"Well," he said. "The usual. We had dinner, and Aunt Ginny and Aunt Hermione conjured up all these balloons and streamers, and some Butterbeer and Firewhisky, and wine and gin and all sorts for the adults… and Monica, Brooke and James," he added, somewhat grudgingly. "And then there was some music and Uncle Ron got up on the table and started belly-dancing. Hugo and Rose got really embarrassed, and Aunt Hermione was _not _impressed." Remembering something, he burst out laughing. "She… well, she made his stomach swell to at least five times the size, and so he… he toppled over."

Amy couldn't help smiling. She could just imagine. A similar thing had happened last year, involving a couple of forks, five oranges and a banana, and Uncle Ron professing he had a hidden juggling talent... a juggling talent that did _not _include the use of magic.

It had been disastrous.

"And?" she pressed.

"Then we started the countdown – Aunt Hermione made these fizzing, colourful numbers appear which shouted which number they were… as if we couldn't tell… – and then it was New Year, and everyone was kissing. It was brilliant."

_Everyone was kissing. _Her heart plummeted.

"So everyone was kissing," she repeated in what she hoped was a casual sort of voice. "Geoff, tell me _everything. _Who kissed who?"

"Well, it wasn't exactly _everyone." _Her spirits lifted. He blushed. "I kissed Rose; Aunt Hermione kissed Uncle Ron; Aunt Ginny kissed Uncle Harry; the twins' parents kissed each other; Brooke grabbed Albus, and planted a kiss on his head as a sort of joke, I guess; Hugo was making vomiting motions; Lily was smiling around at everybody; and James kissed Monica."

_James kissed Monica… James kissed Monica… James kissed Monica…_

She felt sick.

Monica, one of her closest friends, and James, her best friend and… the person who she felt… felt…

Her head dropped back against the pillow. Her eyes darted across to James of their own accord, and she saw that he was still looking away, his cheeks still flaming, his lips still fused shut.

_If she had only stayed awake last night, maybe… maybe _she _could have been the one who…_

She bit her lip. _No. _That would never have happened. Either way, Monica was there. Monica, with her long eyelashes and bright blue eyes. Monica, with her trademark short, strawberry blonde hair and lighthearted, white-toothed smile. Monica, with her pretty face and slim figure. Monica, ever the charmer.

Of course he would kiss her. She was perfect, attractive… He would've been _mad _not to have kissed her. They would make an amazing couple.

Amy felt her stomach squirm.

She couldn't take this.

"Ames?" came Geoff's concerned voice, waving his hands in front of her. _"Hello?"_

She started, then began to speak with Herculean effort. "Oh. Er… you two can go. I'll just get changed, and then I'll see you downstairs."

Geoff grinned, and shuffled off the end of her bed. "Sure. Come on, James."

They left, and, for the second time in two days, she began to cry once more.

When she had finally gotten dressed and trudged downstairs, it was well past eleven o'clock. A few faces looked up at her in confusion, but on the whole, no one seemed to be bothered by her lateness. Of course, everyone had already had breakfast, and, when she saw Amy, Aunt Ginny smiled, handing over a plate of scrambled eggs and toast, and conjuring a glass of orange juice from thin air.

"Here you go," she said. "Eat up, while it's still warm."

Amy sat down, and, although she wasn't at all hungry, she ate the piece of toast and some of the scrambled egg, just to keep her happy. All through breakfast, Aunt Ginny chatted about the weather, the news, Uncle Ron's belly dancing… Amy knew it was all to distract her from Aaron and her 'ordeal', and, although it wasn't working at all, she was grateful.

She was nearly finished, when the door burst open, and in trooped Geoff, Albus, Lily, Rose, Hugo, James, Monica and Brooke.

"Amy!" Monica exclaimed when she saw her. "Hi. How _are _you?"

She gritted her teeth. "Fine."

She looked slightly taken aback, but, nevertheless, sat down, as did the others.

"Hey, Amy," said Brooke.

She smiled. "Hi, Brooke."

Monica looked even more confused.

"So," said Geoff. "We were just about to go up and get our brooms. James and I want to get back in shape for Quidditch try-outs, and Amy – you should too!"

"_What?" _Monica said, whipping her head around to gawp at him. "Why?"

"She's really good," quipped Albus

"Good?" Brooke echoed, then looked back at Amy with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, it's just I never pegged you for a-"

_"Amy?" _Monica said. "Seriously?"

"Hey, watch it," Amy said, trying to smile. "I'm right over here."

"But, _really," _said Monica. "Are you _honestly _trying out?"

"Yes," she snapped. "Why not?"

"I'll have you know," said Hugo, "That she has a _Swiftshot."_

"Really?" said Monica.

"Why doesn't everyone come out?" said James, speaking up for the first time. "We can have a Quidditch match. We don't have equal numbers, we've got nine people… but it's fine. It'll work out."

"I'm not very good," said Lily. "Maybe I'll sit this one out. I'll be the referee."

"Perfect," said Rose. "So. Shall we go?"

Aunt Ginny leaned forwards on the counter. "And _where _exactly are you going to be playing?"

Everyone was stumped.

"At Gran and Gramps'?" suggested Albus.

Aunt Ginny smiled. "Go get Hermione, and she'll do something for you."

"I'll go," offered Geoff, and he sprinted upstairs. Halfway up, he hesitated. "Everyone get your brooms, and then come back to the kitchen."

* * *

Some minutes later, Aunt Hermione had lined up all the pieces of furniture in the drawing room along the walls, then, murmuring strange incantations and waving her wand, the room began to grow to at least ten times its original size. She looked pleased, then conjured a huge green mat with a huge bordered circle, then mumbled something in the direction of all four walls, the floor and the ceiling. She then waved her wand again, and three posts with metal hoops sprung up from the mat on either side.

If Amy hadn't known better, she would have thought it was a proper Quidditch pitch – albeit lacking rows of seats for crowds and the sky.

All nine children stood, mouths agape, staring at her.

"Wow," Lily finally breathed.

"Now," said Aunt Hermione, turning back to face them. "I've laid a protective spell over all of the walls, the floor and the ceiling surrounding the fake pitch, so that if any of the balls hits, for example, the floor, it will just bounce back, otherwise you'll trash the room. If, however, one of _you _goes catapulting towards one of these surfaces, you're much bigger than, say, a bludger, so you would _not _bounce back. The surface will stay protected, but you'll just be hovering a few centimetres from it." She smiled. "Is that all right?"

"All right?" repeated Geoff. _"All right? _That's bloody amazing, that is."

"Mum," said Hugo, sounding annoyed. "Why didn't _I _inherit your genes? I'm the same as Dad – I _stink _at magic."

"You don't stink," Aunt Hermione said kindly. "Ron is a very… good wizard."

Rose turned to her brother. "It's fine, Hugo. You're not the _worst _wizard I've ever seen."

"Easy for you to say," he grumbled. "You got Mum's genes. You're a know-it-all, completely clever –"

"Sorry to interrupt the insightful conversation," said Geoff. "But can we start, already? I don't think Rose is… er… _appreciating _it, Hugo."

Rose beamed at him, and Albus scowled.

"So," said Brooke brightly. "What're the teams going to be?"

"Geoff and James can be captains, since they're trying out," said Monica.

"Amy's trying out, too," said Albus.

"Well," said Monica, grinning over at Amy, who, in turn, glowered back. "Come on. Let's be realistic."

"We _are _being realistic."

It was James. Amy struggled to stop herself looking at him. All she wanted to do was… was to _be _with him, but she couldn't. Not when he was going around kissing Monica.

"Amy's a brilliant flyer," he went on, and her heart swelled to hear him compliment her.

_No, _she thought. _No. Remember Monica. Remember the kiss._

"She's… she's just incredible. She can swerve, she can dive, and I'd bet she could even pull off a Wronski Feint better than half the people that are trying out. She's absolutely…" He caught sight of Geoff's strange expression, and cleared his throat. _"Anyway. _I don't want to be a captain. Let Amy and Geoff be captains."

"You're _so _kind, James," Monica gushed. "You two are just the _epitome _of what best friends really do for each other."

For the first time since she had come to Hogwarts, Amy wanted to hit her. The words _best friends _had never sounded so awful.

"So," said Lily, taking on her role of referee. "If everyone just stands like this, with Beaters here, Chasers here, Keepers here, and Seekers here. No more than two people per category, since there're only eight of you."

Albus and Geoff both stood to be Beaters; Brooke and Amy wanted to be Chasers; Rose and Hugo were Keepers; and finally, James and Monica stood in line to be Seekers.

"Well," began Lily. "Geoff will obviously play Beater for Team Geoff, and Albus, you're Beater for Team Amy."

"Go Team Geoff!" he yelled.

Lily shushed him, before carrying on. "Amy, Chaser for Team Amy, Brooke for Team Geoff. And, for the rest of you, I'm flipping a coin. Heads is Team Geoff. First, let's go for Rose."

She pulled a sickle out of her pocket, and spun it in the air, before catching it and neatly placing it on the back of her other hand. It was heads.

Smiling broadly, Rose went to join Geoff and Brooke, kissing Geoff shyly on the cheek as she snuggled up to him. Geoff looked immensely pleased with himself.

"Last but not least, James," she said.

Amy's heart skipped a beat.

The coin went flying into the air, it twirled once, twice, three times, four times… then plummeted back down. Lily extended her hand, caught it, and slammed it down on her other hand.

"Heads," she said. "Team Geoff."

James headed for Geoff, Brooke and Rose, grinning, but Amy could've sworn that he glanced back at her, just once.

And he hadn't been grinning at all…

* * *

**_So. What have all you lovely reviewers out there got to say about the new developments...? Monica and James. Who would've thought..._**

**_But there're still plenty - I hope - of chapters to come, so keep reading and reviewing (please?)... and maybe something will happen between the two best friends..._**


	14. Remembering

**_I have nothing really to say, except everyone who is still reading, THANK YOU. You're all awesome people._**

**_And also... read on :)_**

**14. Remembering**

Amy gathered her team together for a quick once-over and to skim through tactics. She looked around. Their Seeker was Monica; Chaser, herself; Beater, Albus; Keeper, Hugo. Out of the entire team – excluding herself – Albus, having inherited Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley's genes, was probably the best flyer with a good aim, and Monica was most likely the worst. All in all, however, their team was evenly balanced. There was no one who excelled ridiculously, and no one who lacked basic skill in the air.

The rest of the team did not seem to agree.

"They've got James," hissed Hugo. "Not to mention Geoff, too."

"Hey," she said. "We've got a great team. They might have Geoff as Beater, but we have Albus, who's equally good… Wait, Al, why haven't you ever tried out?" Amy added. "You _are _pretty good, and you love Quidditch, don't you?"

"I was terrified first-year," he explained with a smile. "Last year, I was sick. And, last term, I was doing detention at the same time as trials. Might try out this term, though, if you are."

She nodded. "See? They have two Quidditch hopefuls, and so do we. We'll be fine."

"Amy," said Monica, rolling her eyes. "That's all very well, but aren't we here to discuss tactics?"

"Oh," said Amy. "Yeah. Of course. So Hugo, in this match, because it's four-a-side, I'm guessing Beaters act as Chasers, too. If that's the case, you have to worry about Geoff as well as Brooke. Just… stay strong, and don't get intimidated by him. He's just Geoff. Albus, just make sure you aim well, and at the other team. Monica, you're against James." Even saying his name – especially to _her – _felt like a kick in the solar plexus. "He's… he's pretty good, so just _focus, _okay? Has anyone else got anything to say?"

"Nope," quipped Albus, twirling his bat in his hand. "Sounds all good."

Hugo looked slightly pale, but shrugged. "Let's do this."

Monica rolled her eyes again, and turned her head, trying to catch James' eye.

"You guys ready?" came Geoff's voice.

"Sure," said Amy, glancing furiously over at Monica, who was now blowing kisses in his direction. "Let's go."

Lily began a countdown, and on one, released all four balls.

Amy rushed over to Monica, her Swiftshot light and speedy under her fingertips, and grabbed her arm.

"Listen," she said angrily. "Concentrate, okay? Stop staring at James. We're playing Quidditch now."

"Whoa, Amy," she muttered. "It's not even a proper game. Anyone would think you were jealous, or something. Get a grip."

Amy felt a great surge of hate towards her friend, and, after glaring at her, flew sharply away, just in time to reach out and catch the Quaffle, thrown by Albus, who, in turn, spun in mid-air, his bat colliding with both Bludgers, which then sped towards James and Brooke respectively. Both managed to swerve out of the way, but, in doing so, distracted Rose, their Keeper, thus opening up a clear path for Amy to twist through and score a goal.

"Ten points for Team Amy!" yelled Lily from down below.

Amy smiled, feeling her spirits soar along with her broom, and then, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Monica and James talking together, their brooms parallel to one another. She scowled, and veered away.

It was from that moment onwards that Amy began to try her best, convinced that she could win James back by simply being brilliant at his favourite game. She and Albus were working fluidly now, passing and catching and looping and scoring, but the other team were catching up rapidly, Geoff having scored some spectacular goals.

The score was 120-100 to Team Amy, when she spotted the two Seekers in another heated conversation. Geoff noticed, too, and yelled at them: "Oi! You two lovebirds over there! If you haven't noticed, we're playing a game over here! C'mon, James. Hurry up and catch the Snitch, already."

James glowered down at him. It was evident that he wanted to spend more time with her. It was the first time he hadn't shown 110% in a Quidditch game. Of course, what red-blooded male _wouldn't _want to be distracted by Monica Hayweather?

"All right, all right," said James.

He scanned the room, and an instant later he had zoomed past, and swerved abruptly, emerging with a tiny golden ball fluttering in the palm of his hand.

"Game ends!" shouted Lily. "250-120 to Team Geoff! All balls back, please, then I'll go and get Aunt Hermione to fix this room again."

Amy landed softly on the balls of her feet, and picked up her Swiftshot. She turned, congratulating the other team, and joking that they could never have won, then, unable to bear it any longer, turned on her heel and sprinted out of the room, running not to her room, as was her first thought, but outside, out of Number 12 Grimauld Place – thankfully no one was outside – and, lifting one leg over her broom, took to the skies.

She had no idea where to go, so simply stayed high above the house, circling the neighbourhood a few times, thinking, just thinking about everything. Aaron, Draco Malfoy, Turvulus Malfoy, her parents, Hogwarts, and, finally, the situation between James and Monica.

She must have been up there for no less than forty-five minutes, when she heard the rustle of clothes buffeted by the wind nearby. She looked around. And there, his expression soft, warm, and wholly familiar, was James.

* * *

"Hey," he said. "I just came up to check on you. I was going to come straight away, after you flew off, but Geoff said to let you go."

"Well, I'm fine," managed Amy at last. "I just…"

"Needed time to think?" he offered, and he grinned, then; her favourite James grin, that made her clutch the broom for fear of falling.

She swallowed, and the words slipped out. "James, I need to talk to you about something."

He looked taken aback. "Well. To tell you the truth, I need to talk to you, too. Is it about… about what you were really doing in Hogsmeade?"

"I already said that I can't tell you about that," she mumbled. "James, you're better off not knowing. I actually wanted to talk to you about… about Monica."

"Oh." His expression darkened. "I need to talk to you about her, too."

"You go first." She moved slightly closer to him. "Go on."

"No," he refused. "You first, Ames. It's the least you can do, if you're keeping Hogsmeade a secret from me."

She hesitated. "Fine."

"So?"

"So I know you really like her, James," she snapped. "Come on, don't lie to me. She's _Monica. _Half the boys in Hogwarts are in love with her, and considering a quarter of them are Slytherins… Well, I just want you to know that she… she acts like this for a while, and then she screws you over, leaving you rejected. James, you're smart. Do the right thing. Do you honestly want to end up with her? Rea–"

"No," he cut in. _"No. _Amy, you've got me all wrong. I'm not half the boys in Hogwarts. I'm not in love with her. To be honest, she's starting to get on my nerves. That thing downstairs on New Year's? That was _nothing. _It was a meaningless, New Year kiss. Everyone was doing it, and I'd had a bit to drink. I'm not saying she's not attractive, I'm saying that I'm not attract_ed _to her. I think of her as a friend, and nothing more. Her thinking that we're more than friends… honestly, it's a little creepy."

_I think of her as a friend, and nothing more. Her thinking that we're more than friends… honestly, it's a little creepy._

Was that what he thought of Amy, too? Just as 'a friend, and nothing more'?

"James," she said quietly. "You should tell her."

"I tried to, back when we were playing Quidditch, remember?" he burst out. "But Geoff butted in… Anyway, I don't know if she's got the message or not, but I told her to stop what she was doing."

There was a moment of silence.

"So what did you want to tell me?" she finally asked.

"What?" He seemed to be utterly confused.

"You said that you wanted to talk to me about something, too," she pressed. "What's the matter?"

He instantly clammed up. "Nothing. I… it was a joke. Ha, ha… Uh, well I'll be going, then. I… you stay up here as long as you want."

"James, wait–"

But leaning down, he had urged his Swiftshot away, and was racing away from her. Without thinking, she shot after him, fast as a bullet from a gun, gaining on him. She pulled herself higher than him, then dove in front, screeching to a halt before him. He had no choice but to brake, and almost crashed into her. As it was, he had only managed to stop a centimetre or so away.

"What," he growled, glaring at her, "was _that _for? Merlin's beard, Amy. You could've killed us both. We could've fallen over a hundred feet, genius."

"But we didn't," she replied. "We're still alive."

"Barely," he said.

"Scared, were we?" she teased.

"Terrified," he agreed, nodding fervently and grinning. "I saw my life flash before my very eyes."

Amy's smile faded, suddenly serious. "James, I want to ask you one more question."

"Go right on ahead," he said.

"Where… does all of this leave _us?" _she whispered. "I mean, I just want to know how… what… with Monica, and all… are you never going to date someone, or–"

"I've never had the guts to ask the person," he said, and he reached out a hand – burning, smooth – to hold her forearm. "I've always wanted to, but I just didn't want to ruin anything, you know?"

So he liked someone. Amy tried to force a smile, but tears were pricking at her eyes. All she could manage was a trembling, twisted sort of grimace.

"You should ask her out," she eventually spluttered out. "Really, James."

Amy pulled away, but he tightened his grip on her arm.

"I… I have something to ask you too, Ames," he said.

"What is it?" she half-scoffed. "Love advice?"

"No," he said. "I wanted to ask if you remembered that night, back at the Weasleys Sr.'s place. We were in your bed, talking, and Geoff walked in. Come to think of it, so did half the house, eventually."

"I remember," she said quietly, her head still tilted away, trying not to catch his gaze.

"We were talking about whether or not you should try out for the Gryffindor team," he went on. "And then… well… I… I was going to…I don't know if you noticed, but I… I was about to…"

This time she looked up at him, eyes wide, unbelieving.

"I remember," she whispered.

His fingers closed tighter around her arm, and he pulled her closer to him. He traced a fiery trail down her jaw, then his thumb grazed her lips. She felt her heartbeat stagger. James was now balancing on his broom, using his thighs to grip onto the thin strips of wood between his legs, one hand cupping her face, the other holding her arm. However, Amy's hands, unlike his, could do nothing but clutch onto her own Swiftshot. She herself seemed frozen in place. This was a dream. It couldn't be real.

But it certainly felt real, especially when – at long, long last – James lowered his face, catching her lips within his own.

* * *

**_So it finally happened. But how will everyone react...? Reviews, reviews... and I'll update._**

**_Please?_**


	15. Epiphany

**_So it finallly happened! But what of the aftermath...?_**

**Ephiphany**

After what seemed like an age, the two of them broke apart, their foreheads resting against each other, breathing hotly.

"James…" whispered Amy. "What was that all about? How do you feel… about me?"

He was floored. "Didn't I just _show _you?"

"I want you to tell me," she insisted. "With _words."_

He shifted uncomfortably on his broom. For James, 'showing' people was always easier than using words to express himself.

"I… uh… _well…"_

"Forget the question, then," she said, still feeling lightheaded, buoyant. "Let me just ask one thing. How did that compare with Mo–" The word had not even made it out of her mouth, before her expression darkened.

James, noticing, asked what was wrong.

"What's _wrong?" _she echoed. "James, you… do this often, then? D'you just go around kissing people, then, not even a day later, kiss the person's _friend, _telling them that the other person meant nothing and saying _everything _right so that you'd then… _God, _James. How could you? She's practically in love with you. Can you _imagine _how she's going to feel when she finds out? That you kissed _me? _Her friend? She'll _hate _me, because she's going to see this as some sort of betrayal. She'll tell everyone at Hogwarts, and people are going to think that I'm a… a…"

"How," he said, staring her squarely in the eye, "is she even _going _to find out? We're the only people who know."

"Which almost makes it worse," hissed Amy tearfully. "What're we going to do? Sneak around? D'you want me to become some kind of girl that you can just drag into empty broom cupboards whenever you feel like it? Like some kind of cheap, replaceable _call girl?"_

She didn't know what had gotten into her. Minutes before, she was wishing for this very thing to happen… and now? Look what she was doing. She had, as usual, ruined everything.

"Whoa, Ames," he said. "Hold it. A _call girl? _You? Amy, it was just a kiss."

_That thing downstairs on New Year's? That was nothing. It was a meaningless, New Year kiss… I think of her as a friend, and nothing more. Her thinking that we're more than friends… honestly, it's a little creepy…_

Just a kiss… _A meaningless kiss… that was nothing… friend, and nothing more… a little creepy…_

No. _No._

Was he thinking…?

She risked a glance up at him. He was staring at her like he was seeing her for the first time, and looking, frankly, like he would rather be anywhere else at that moment.

_A little creepy…_

"James," she whispered. "I just…"

"Amy," he said, and there was a steel edge to his voice. "Save it. I actually came up here to tell you that I like you. _There. _I said it, okay? I didn't know if I'd have the guts. So I just showed you, like I do. And then… you start bantering on about Monica? Sneaking around? Broom cupboards? _Call girls? _All I wanted was for you to know. I don't expect a _relationship _from you. And I certainly didn't expect you to kiss me back – oh, yes you did –and then try and _blame _it on me."

She didn't answer.

His voice grew softer. "There's something really on your mind, isn't there? I know there is. You can tell me. Just trust me, Ames. I'm your best friend… though that's pretty much ruined right now, but… Well. Let's not go down that road. So? What actually happened in Hogsmeade?"

"That's the only thing I can't tell you," she said, and his face fell. "Please, James. Don't keep asking me that. I wish I could tell you, but I can't. I truly, truly can't."

"And can you honestly say that there's nothing else bothering you?"

She looked away. "There's nothing."

"Ames," he said. "I'm sorry about just now."

"Don't be," she said quickly. "It was…"

"Was what?" he asked.

She looked him dead in the eye. "I think… that we should probably start heading back."

He stared straight back, trying to deduce what she was trying to hide. "Fine."

A beat of silence passed, and then he reached his hand out again to rest lightly on her arm. She felt her breaths suddenly quicken, something rush through her head that she could feel all the way down to her very toes.

"I'm sorry," he said again, "About Aaron, too."

It all came crashing back down on her, and she sagged slightly on her broom, her eyes sliding down again.

"I know he meant the world to you. You'd have done anything for him," he went on. "And I'm sure we'll find him again. I also want to ask you… why we found the Marauders' Map with you in that room in Hogsmeade."

_No… NO. He couldn't know. HOW did he know? Did that mean… everyone else knew, too? Harry, Ginny, the other children? What did they think of her?_

She risked a glance at him. "I… what're you talking about?"

"Ames," he said patiently. "I just want to know."

She hesitated. "You're not angry at me?"

"I'll figure that out after you tell me," he said.

She managed a small nod, and the voice she used came out like a breath. "Okay."

She dug her hand into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment. With shaking fingers, she gave it to James.

She had to explain everything.

Now he too would know what had happened to Aaron.

He skim-read the message, and she saw his lips moving wordlessly.

"What," he finally said, and his voice – like hers had – sounded nothing like his own, "Did he take from you, that you had to _steal _in order to get back?"

"You said earlier," she began, "That Aaron meant the world to me, and I'd have done anything for him. You were right."

His eyes widened. "No…He took _Ron?"_

Tears pricked at the sides of her own eyes. She nodded once more.

"And when did you steal it?" he asked.

She didn't have to reply. An instant later it came to him, and he closed his eyes and breathed, "When we were all out that morning."

A third nod.

"Amy," he said. "Who _was _X?"

"Turvulus' father," she whispered. "Draco Malfoy."

"So he's the one that has Aaron." It was more a statement than a question.

A flicker of silence, then, "James?"

He didn't spare her a glance. "What?"

"You _are _angry," she said tearfully.

"Wha– _no," _he exclaimed hurriedly. "I was just thinking about all the ways to kill Malfoy."

Amy jerked upright so suddenly, that she nearly toppled off the side of her broom.

James swiftly grabbed her. "Whoa."

"I…" she began quietly. "I know where he is."

"Who, Malfoy?"

"No," she said. _"Aaron. _I think I do, anyway."

"Where?" he asked excitedly.

"Malfoy probably brought him to swap him for the map, right? But then there was the fight, and he disapparated– Hold on," she said. "He disapparated _holding the map. _But then… how did you find it afterwards?"

"He grabbed a spare bit of parchment that the Hog's Head have in every room," explained James with a small smile. "He was so startled that he just took what he _thought _was the map."

"Thank God," she said. "Well, anyway, I think that Aaron is still _inside _that room. There were so many places he could've been. Now all we have to do is get back there–"

"–and retrieve him," he finished. "But to be honest, I think we should get my parents to do it instead."

"_What?" _she burst out. "But that means… we have to tell them _everything."_

He stared at her. "Of course."

"I was actually thinking of not telling them _anything," _she confessed. "Maybe just going there ourselves, and coming up with a white lie about where we found him…"

"Everyone already _knows _that you stole the map, Amy," he said brusquely. "Why not tell them why you did it? That it was for Aaron?"

"Because that means I have to tell them that I knew all along where he was," she hissed. "I would rather people think I was a thief, than think that I didn't care about my little _brother."_

"They won't think that," he shot back. "Everyone knows that you dote on him."

"Why don't you stop telling me what 'everyone knows' and concentrate on helping me find Aaron," she snapped. "Every second we spend up here is a second he's having to suffer in that awful place."

"Look," he said. "Amy, I get what you're trying to say. But then, why don't we tell them _after _we find Aaron? Then they can't _possibly _think that you don't care about him."

She gave it a second's thought. "Fine. Let's go."

"First," he said, turning his broom the other way, "We're going home, so that we can tell them we're safe, and we'll sneak out tonight."

"But–"

"Our parents don't need two other children missing," he said. "And I know how you feel about Monica and what happened… before, so we don't want to give her a cause to come up with something herself. We all know what an imagination that girl has."

He had half-turned back, when the words slipped out of her mouth.

"Well. There's one thing."

He looked back at her over his shoulder, his face blank. "What're you talking about?"

Her face was crimson, burning. "You know how you said earlier, 'And can you honestly say that there's nothing else bothering you?' Well. There is one thing."

"What's wrong?" he asked, and by now he was back to completely facing her.

"I'm so sorry. I feel like such an idiot for yelling at you like that just now," she apologized. "Truth is, I was worried that all you felt about it was that it was some meaningless kiss, like it was with Monica… and I didn't know that you… you felt…"

His cheeks flamed. "Well… I…"

"All I have to say," she continued, "is likewise."

He sat still, staring at her, mouth agape, before a huge grin spread out across his face.

"You're pulling my leg," he finally said.

"Of course I am," she teased.

"Ha, ha," he said dryly. "You're so _funny."_

"I know I am," she said. "So? What're we going to do?"

"We," he said, slinging an arm around her shoulders, "are going to be _absolutely _fine."

She thought her heart was going to explode within her chest, she was so happy. She never knew that it was capable of holding so much indescribable joy… and her _smile. _It was so wide that it was _almost _as wide as James' just then.

"Race you back?" she laughed.

"Are you seriously considering it?" he joked.

"Scared, are we?" she asked. "Want to bet another five Knuts?"

"Five Knuts?" He shook his head, grinning. "Let's make it Two Sickles."

"Three," she said.

He nodded. "Deal."

"Count of three," she said. "One, two, _three."_

Both shot forwards at once, and it was less than two minutes later that they landed in unison, sides aching with laughter, rolling around on the ground – devoid of anyone – outside Number 12 Grimauld Place.

Then the door burst open, and Ginny Weasley stood there, smiling, relieved, back at them.

"Come inside, you two," she said. "We're having an early dinner tonight."

Then s slim girl with cropped, strawberry blonde hair pushed past her, and dashed over to James, flinging her arms around him.

"_Monica?" _he exclaimed, surprised. Then he struggled out of her iron grip, planting two hands on her shoulders. "I need to talk to you later."

"Sure, Jamie," she said brightly, kissed him lightly on the cheek, and pulled him to his feet. "Come on, guys. Let's go in. Everyone's waiting for you."

"Monica…"

"Later, okay?" she cut in. "So, Amy, why'd you zip off?"

Amy's smile faded – but only slightly.

"I just felt like a breath of fresh air," she replied breezily. "I wanted to think about everything, clear my head, and the sky's _just _the place to do that."

She exchanged a brief grin with James.

He was the only one there who knew the double-meaning behind her words.

_I wanted to clear my head, and the sky's _just _the place to do that._

* * *

**_So? Has anyone got anything to say about our new goings-on?? Thanks for reading!_**


	16. The Boy Who Kissed

**The Boy Who Kissed**

It was after dinner that Monica cornered Amy on the empty staircase.

"So," she began, leaning casually against the banister.

Amy nodded, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt. "So."

"I saw how you kept looking at James during dinner," she said. "And _blushing."_

Her face flamed. "I… er – that was – Monica, you don't _get _it, I–"

"I know," she cut in. "You told him, didn't you? When you two were up flying around, you _told _him. Don't deny it, Ames."

Amy stared at her. How did she _know…? _The game was up. Monica knew _already. _She shut her eyes tight, bracing herself for the rush of insults and _how could yous _that were surely about to come.

But there was nothing, for an instant later, Lily and Albus came barrelling up the staircase, and behind them was Aunt Ginny, yelling at everyone to "Go to bed!"

And so Monica shot her a quick glare, and an "I can't believe you didn't tell me", then hurried upstairs.

It seemed the Hayweathers were staying another night.

Grinding her teeth together, Amy turned into her own room, brushed her teeth with some sort of ferocity, undressed carelessly, flicked off the light, and dove into bed.

There was only one possible explanation.

James had told her everything.

She rolled onto her side, imagining what everyone would be saying to her, and behind her back, when they had returned to Hogwarts. Rumours would spread like wildfire, and she would be plagued by hundreds of dirty looks and muttered abuse.

Her hands curled into fists beneath the covers. She couldn't bring herself to believe it. But how else could Monica have known?

All Amy wanted to do was fall asleep, and plummet into her dreams, where none of this could reach her. But, as she had told James before, _every second is a second he's having to suffer in that awful place._

For the sake of rescuing her brother, James was supposed to be coming to fetch her later, when everyone else was asleep. They were to get dressed, and then they would sneak outside, whereupon they would fly to Hogsmeade. Of course, they could not disapparate - being only fifth-years they did not know _how _to -, and they had thought about using Floo Powder, but Ginny would surely notice if some went missing. Flying took longest, but they had _Swiftshots, _so if they went at full speed, it shouldn't take too long to reach him.

It was two hours later that her door creaked open.

"Ames," came his voice. "You awake? Dressed? Ready?"

She could not face him, and so just nodded from her bed. She had slipped into trainers, a pair of jeans, a cotton shirt and her favourite zip-up hoodie. Perfect rescue wear.

"Great." He strode over, and moved in to kiss her.

She jerked her head away.

He drew back, wounded. "Amy… what's wrong?"

"You told Monica," she accused. "Why, James?"

"I did _not." _He looked incredulous. "What gave you that idea?"

"She came up to me, and said how she knew that I had told you, up there," she said quietly. "And how I shouldn't deny it, and how she couldn't believe I didn't tell her. She seemed furious, too."

"And you immediately jumped to the conclusion that _I _had told her," he said angrily. "God, Amy."

"Well, what other explanation _is _there?" she retorted.

"Maybe she was talking about something else," he snapped. "Or just being deluded. I sure as hell never told her anything. I've barely even spoken to her all night."

"Just tell me," she said. "I don't want you lying to me anymore."

"_Anymore?" _he shouted, ignoring Amy's protests that he would wake people up. "I've never _lied _to you. And I'm not lying now! I think I would _know _if I had told someone."

"I'm sure you would," she said bitterly. "And keep it _down, _okay?"

"Didn't that kiss mean _anything _to you?" he yelled, as if just to spite her. "Or was it just another one of your jokes?"

"_I'm _not the one joking here," she said. "Or _lying."_

"I thought _Monica _was deluded, Ames," he spat. "But I was wrong. _You _are."

She glared. "I'm _not. _Look, I'll go and ask Monica _right now, _if you want. I'll ask her what she was talking about. _That'll _show you."

"No," he shot back. "That'll show _you."_

"Fine," she snapped, and threw back the covers to face the door.

An instant later, she recognized the three figures standing in the doorway.

Geoff was there, gaping at them in utter disbelief. Next to him stood Brooke, staring not at Amy and James, but at the person standing beside her, a person who was currently at a loss for words, her face a mask of complete incredulity.

"I think," said James, his voice coming out sounding half-strangled, "You can ask her now."

A beat of silence flickered.

"How long…" whispered Amy. "How long've you been standing there?"

"Enough to hear you mention a kiss," said Geoff.

"Shut up, Geoff," Brooke cut in. "Let's go."

"What're you on about?" he asked. "I'm _so _staying."

She grabbed his arm, and dragged him off, leaving Monica standing there.

"Mon?" attempted Amy. "Are you… all right?"

It took her a moment, and then her face was scrunched up in anger. She moved swiftly to the bed, and then drew back her hand to slap – not Amy, surprisingly – but James.

The sharp _crack _echoed through the room.

"You good-for-nothing _idiot," _she barked. "You kissed both of us in the space of, what, a _day?"_

"Monica, it was–"

"It's not your fault Amy," she went on, shooting her a small smile. "I know you'd never be the one to kiss _him, _when you knew how much I liked him. He must've started it."

"Well, yes, but–"

"And of course, _now _he's trying to push you into doing something you really wouldn't want to do, right?" she continued. "And you wanted to come and talk to me about it, because you weren't comfortable at all doing things with _him, _when you really like someone else."

Both Amy and James blinked at her.

"You know," she said. "Amy, you told him, didn't you? That's what you told him when you were up there. About that mystery guy you said you liked, back when Connor asked you on a date, remember? You said that he wasn't talking to you, and you'd used a bad spell on him…?"

James was glaring at her. "You have a mystery crush?"

"The bad spell," she murmured, trying to make him understand. "Bombarda. In the hospital wing."

Understanding dawned at once; he knew that _he _was this 'mystery crush'. "Oh. _Oh."_

Monica's head whipped from Amy to James, and back to Amy. "He was _there? _God, Ames, can't you just _tell _me?"

"So before," Amy said, avoiding her question altogether, "When we were on the staircase, and you told me not to deny the fact that I'd told him, you thought I'd told him–"

"Who your mystery boy was," finished Monica, as if nothing could be more obvious. "Why? What d'you think I meant?"

"Nothing," she said quickly, sheepish.

James had been right all along. What was her _problem?_

But Monica was no fool. If she wasn't suspicious already, she would be soon. And so, before she could say anything more, Amy quickly faked a yawn, and said, "It's late. And I'm really tired. Could you two maybe leave?"

A hesitation. "Fine. But Amy, you _will _tell me later."

She glanced at James before answering. "Later. Much later."

"I'll get it out of you, no matter what you do," she warned, a joke. Then she swept a kiss across James' forehead. "Night, Jamie. See you, Amy. Ha – that rhymes!"

And smiling, she left the room.

James looked instantly over at Amy, folding his arms, victorious, across his chest.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, shamefacedly. "I just… I thought…"

"Since the hospital wing?" he asked, with that familiar lopsided grin.

Her heart leapt. "Since forever. But I probably only realized it then."

He lowered his head slowly down, and paused. "Good. You didn't move away. Or, like Monica, hit me straight across the face."

Amy hung her head. "She thinks… she thinks that I'd never…"

"Who cares what–" He quickly caught himself before he could say more, and backtracked. "I mean, er, it'll all work out in the end."

She laughed softly. "Thanks, _Jamie."_

He grimaced. "Sweet Merlin, no."

"Then how about–" She mused for a moment. "–Jam? Potty? The Boy who Kissed?"

"Ha, ha," he said sarcastically. "You just crack me up."

"So is kissing out of the question, then?" she asked innocently, eyes wide.

"If that's what it takes," he said, sighing dramatically, "Then I'll be the Boy who Kissed."

"The Boy," she corrected, cheeks flushed, "Who Kiss_es."_

"Right," he agreed, grinning, and kissed her once, feather light, on the nose, and then moved down to her lips to fulfil his new name.

When he finally leaned away, he checked his watch. "It's five to one."

"You reckon everyone's asleep now?" she asked.

"Well," he said. "Monica _just _left, so I'm guessing no. And she'll get suspicious if I don't leave soon, since you're_ so tired_, so I'll go."

"No," she argued, curling her hands into the wayward curls of his hair. "Stay here."

He chuckled. "Downstairs in ten minutes. We need to get Aaron."

Reality came crashing down on her like a ton of bricks. Her hands slipped away, her fingers fluttering back onto the sheets.

She couldn't lose her track of thoughts now. Her number one priority was Aaron.

"Five," she said.

"Now?" he suggested.

"Let me just grab my broom."

She swung herself out of bed, thanking God that Monica hadn't noticed both her and James had been clothed in, well, outdoor wear, and that – God forbid – she hadn't seen her wearing her trainers in bed.

She checked that her wand was in her pocket, then opened her wardrobe as quietly as she could, and took out her broom.

Then the two of them crept out of her bedroom door, and down the length of the corridor, when Geoff suddenly emerged from his room, heading for the bathroom.

They froze.

_Don't look, don't look, don't look…_

He glanced over in their direction, and confusion flashed across his eyes.

"What're you two doing out here?" he asked.

An excuse slipped from Amy's mouth before she could help herself. "Sleepwalking."

James looked at her as if she were mad. So did Geoff.

"Are you _kidding?" _he said. "You can't sleepwalk together. And besides, Ames, you live with me. I've never seen you sleepwalk before."

"No," she said quickly. "_I _don't, but James does. And I heard him stumbling around, so I came out before he could trip down the stairs or something. He could seriously hurt himself."

"Right," he said, and _almost_ sounded convinced.

Amy wondered if this were enough to let them pass.

But of course, being Geoff, he couldn't leave it at that.

"Then why," he wanted to know, "Are you fully clothed, and holding your _brooms?"_

Amy was stumped. James came to her rescue.

"Fine," he said. "You caught us. I don't sleepwalk. I… er… we're, um… _late night Quidditch practice."_

It was, apparently, the wrong thing to say. If it were anyone else, that would have been enough. But this was Geoff.

His eyes lit up. "Can I join you? I need as much training as I can get for try-outs."

"You… don't need to train," he said hurriedly. "You're _brilliant, _Geoff. But Amy here, see she doesn't really know all of the rules. I'm just teaching her everything, so it's really only a two-person thing."

"But why _now?"_

Amy felt like screaming, or throwing something at him.

"Because she's embarrassed," James said. "She's got her pride, and she doesn't want anyone to know that she doesn't know the rules. She's supposed to be a _fifth-year. _You'd think she'd at least know the rules." He shook his head sadly. "But no. She doesn't. So she woke me up at one in the morning, and now here we are."

"Sounds like Amy," he snorted.

"Oi," she snapped. "Watch it, both of you."

"Sorry, _Mum," _said Geoff, rolling his eyes. "Fine. I won't breathe a word, just for your ridiculously large ego, Ames."

Amy wanted to retort, but James mouthed _no._

"Great," she said brightly. "G'night, then, Geoff."

"Night. Have fun, you guys."

_Oh, _Amy thought, as the two of them headed downstairs, and she contemplated the break-in and escape they were about to commit. _We're going to be having anything but fun._

* * *

**_So, there you go. Chapter sixteen. How was it? Good/bad/completely awful? _**

**_Review!!! :D_**


	17. Aaron

**Aaron**

When they had reached Hogsmeade, they dismounted slowly, quietly, and James swung the cloak over them. Careful not to make any noise at all, they headed for the Hog's Head.

"Room 38," Amy whispered. "Two floors up, and on the left of the staircase."

He nodded. "So what's your plan?"

"We get in, and–"

"Yeah," he interrupted. "But _how _to we get in?"

She stopped so abruptly that the cloak almost slipped completely off her; as it was, her feet and the bottom of her legs flashed in the air for a brief second.

"Er…" she began. "Well. I was hoping _you _would…"

There was a moment's silence.

James sighed inwardly. "Fine. Let's leave our brooms here. Then you can go in, disguised, and I'll slip in with you. Just ask him where Geoff's shop is, or something, and that'll keep him occupied. Then I'llgo up to room 38, and look around. When I find Aaron, I'll take him under the cloak. We'll go downstairs, and I'll give you some kind of signal, and we can leave all together."

"I like it," Amy said. "Except _I'm _going to go upstairs and find Aaron."

"But–"

"James," she cut in. "He's my brother. I'm not going to be waiting downstairs when he might or might not be upstairs."

A hesitation. "Fine."

"Good." She smiled. "Now let's give you a nice disguise."

She moved closer to him under the cloak, and pulled out her wand. After a few hastily murmured spells, she looked him up and down, considering.

"I think that'll do," she eventually said.

Amy had made him bigger, much, much bigger, so he towered over her, and his shoulders were vast. His hair had been transformed, now a sort of honey blonde, although it was hard to tell in the dark, and his eyes were a strange shade of blue.

"You still look too young, though," she added, and, muttering, _'Framotia', _had the pleasure of seeing a full moustache sprout on his upper lip, and a five-o'clock-shadow adorn the lower half of his face.

"Perfect," she said with a grin. "So much more attractive than before."

He chuckled, and swooped down to plant a kiss on her lips. Her heart sprung into motion. "Good luck."

She blinked. "You too."

He pulled the cloak off himself – a good idea, since most of their legs were showing now, as his height had pulled the cloak up a good deal – and staggered forwards, acting the part of someone who'd already drunk too much. Amy moved quickly, trying to keep up with him.

The door swung open, and the innkeeper looked up. Amy slipped inside, heading straight for the stairs, hearing snatches of conversation.

"'Ello, 'ello," greeted James jovially. "I'd like a drink or two, if you wouldn' mind."

"Seems like you've had too much already," the man muttered under his breath.

"Wha' was tha'?" asked James, even though, of course, he knew perfectly well what he had said.

"No, nothin'," said the man. "What would you like?"

The rest of the conversation was drowned out by the pounding of Amy's blood in her ears. Would she find him here?

* * *

_Room 34, 35, 36, 37… 38._

She skidded to a halt outside the door, and, looking it over twice, whispered, _'Alohomora' _and entered.

"Aaron!" she shouted, pulling off the cloak. _"Aaron! _You here?"

She rushed around the room, pulling off the bedcovers, peering under the bed, jerking the curtains aside… _Where was he?_

* * *

Downstairs, the innkeeper, hearing an audible crash from upstairs, dropped his towel. Was one of his guests handling something illegal? It would not be the first time. He scowled and grabbed his wand, heading towards the staircase.

At that moment, the drunken fellow who had come in earlier, let go of his Firewhisky, and it sloshed out of the cup, spilling all over the floor.

"Sorry, mate," the man slurred. "Can I've another?"

The innkeeper forgot all about the noises and lumbered towards the bar, muttering grumbles and curses under his breath.

* * *

"Aaron!" Amy yelled. _"Aaron!"_

Then suddenly, a whisper, almost impossible to hear. "A…my?"

She rushed for the wardrobe, throwing it open. And there, tied up, bruised, looking desperately gaunt and half-dead, was Aaron.

Crying with relief, she used her wand to untie him, then pulled him into a crushing hug.

"Are you all right?" she asked, when she finally let him go. "Are you hurt?"

He managed a small smile. "Thanks, Ames. I thought… I thought I was going to…"

"It's all over now," she said. "We're taking you straight home."

He nodded, and followed her weakly out of the room, down the stairs, all the way being supported by her and hidden under the cloak. When reached the bottom of the stairs, Amy headed up to James, and whispered, still hidden under the cloak, "Boo". The effect was instantaneous.

James spluttered, spraying Firewhisky – not to mention a healthy dosage of spit– all over the innkeeper.

"I think," he said sheepishly. "I've pro'lly had 'nuff to drink tonigh'. I'm gonna go home."

"Yes," agreed the innkeeper coldly. "Please do."

The second they were out of the door, Amy tugged off the cloak.

"What were you _thinking?" _started James. "You nearly killed me in there, when you–"

He had caught sight of Aaron, who was staring at what he thought was a tall, built drunk man with unease.

"You…" James trailed off, grinning. "Thank God."

Aaron opened his mouth to answer, and instead fainted, falling into James' arms. Amy made a move to reach for him, but James shook his head.

"Leave him," he said. "I'll bet that walk just really took it out of him. He's just tired and hungry and… Well, let's just take him home."

She nodded, and, unable to contain her relief, grabbed James's face in her hands, and kissed him hard, full on the mouth. Surprised – but happily so – he kissed her back, all the while holding Aaron in his arms.

She withdrew a few minutes later, buoyant. "Shall we go?"

"My house, or yours?" asked James.

A pause. "Yours. My parents are probably still looking for Ron here, so they might not be home."

He nodded, grinning lopsidedly, and the they headed for where they had left their brooms, waiting faithfully for their return.

* * *

They landed awkwardly, since they had been flying side-by-side, trying to balance Aaron's weight between them. As Amy held the brooms, James lifted him up, holding him easily in his arms, since they were still influenced by Amy's spell, and thus about double the size of what they had been before. At that moment, the door flew open, and there stood Ginny, Geoff and Brooke.

"_Amy!"_ shrieked Ginny, hysterically. "Where have you _been? _And who is… have you been sneaking out with strange _men? _Is that… is he holding a _dead body? _Where's James? Is he involved too? I… I can't believe this. _Harry! _Amy's here!"

Geoff and Brooke stared.

"Amy," began Geoff uneasily. "What happened to 'Quidditch Practice'? And who the hell is this guy?"

"Is that really a corpse?" whispered Brooke. "Is it _James? _Is James the corpse?"

"_No," _retaliated Amy. "This is– Listen, I have such great news. Aar–"

"I honestly wouldn't have expected this of you," interrupted Ginny. "And whoever you are, I want you to leave _immediately, _Mr…"

"Potter," finished James calmly.

"_Excuse-me?" _she retorted sharply. "If this is your idea of a joke–"

Harry appeared at the doorway.

"Amy, glad to see you're back, though you're in heaps of trouble," he said. "Where's James? And who in the name of Merlin is _this _young man?"

A few more faces emerged from behind him, and suddenly it seemed everyone was talking. Amy felt her face heat up. And just before she could act, James, to her utter surprise, intervened.

"_Shut up!"_

Silence fell.

"All of you," said Amy urgently, "need to listen to me. I'll explain everything later, but for now, I want you to let James – yes, this man _is _James – and me through. We're going up to my room. Someone bring food and water. Oh, and I need my parents to come here immediately, too. No questions."

Everyone in the doorway, unaccustomed to being addressed thus, slowly complied, parting to let them pass. James and Amy hurried upstairs, and laid Aaron gently down on her bed. Amy flicked her wand, and James' appearance was restored. Within five minutes, Lily and Rose had brought up a tray of a steaming mug of tea, a glass of water, two pieces of toast spread with a coating of jam, and a banana. Amy thanked them, before shooing them away and placing the tray on the bedside table.

It was a few minutes later that Aaron's eyes fluttered open, and mumbled one word.

"Ames."

She flew to his side, and handed him the tray. He stared at it for a brief second, before practically inhaling everything on it.

James shot her a grin from the other side of the room. "We did it."

"Thank you," she said.

"You were brilliant," he said. "I was just–"

"_Amy!" _came Albus' audible shout from downstairs. "Your parents are here!"

Amy stood up quickly, and brushed her lips first across Aaron's forehead, then across James's lips.

"Come with me?" she said to James. He nodded, and she turned to her brother. "We'll just be a sec."

The two of them hurried downstairs, where her parents stood, staring back up at them.

"Amy," said her father. "Harry told me that you said that we had to come immediately. What's so important, Ames?"

"It's _very _important," she agreed. "James, I'm sorry, but would you mind staying down here?"

He smiled. "Sure."

"Mum, Dad, could you follow me upstairs?" she said. "And you too, Geoff."

Frowning in confusion, they obeyed without a word. The three of them traipsed after her. She opened her bedroom door slowly, unable to keep herself from grinning widely.

The four of them walked inside, and Aaron sat up in the bed, dropping his half-eaten banana onto the tray.

"Mum… Dad… Geoff?" he whispered. "It's me."

* * *

**_You really, really want to press that little green button, don't you? Please... PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE??? _**


	18. SUMMARY

_**So I know I've left this story for ages, but here's a quick summary to get everyone up to date!**_

**SUMMARY**

_Original Characters:_

Amy Longbottom, Gryffindor fifth-year, daughter of Neville and Luna, best friends (and more) with James Potter the 2nd. She has one owl, Myst.

Her family: Neville, Luna, Geoff (third-year), Aaron (first-year).

Monica and Brooke Hayweather (twins), Gryffindor fifth-year. Monica seems to like James, Brooke Connor Furnell.

Conor Furnell, Gryffindor fifth-year, asked Amy out to Hogsmeade once.

Turvulus Malfoy, Slytherin fifth-year, older brother of Scorpius Malfoy, son of Draco Malfoy.

Winona Spencer, Gryffindor first-year, seems to like Aaron Longbottom.

Louie Mayer, Gryfindor first-year, best friend of Aaron.

Crystal Marmingston, fifth-year, Slytherin.

Sparkerwell 'Spark' – James Potter the 2nd's pet. Crookshanks' kitten.

_Plot:_

Turvulus Malfoy and Crystal Marmingston have a midnight duel against James and Amy, in which Amy breaks her leg in two places and Prof. McGonagall walks in. Gryffindor and Slytherin both lose house points, and the four are sentenced to detention. In the hospital wing, Amy has a fight with James, and uses _Bombarda _aginst him. When her leg has healed, Amy gets a strange letter from a man named X:

_Miss Longbottom,_

_I have something of yours you might want back. It is something of great value. In return, there is something that you must give me. I can see that you may not want to corporate, but if not, then your precious little…belonging will never come back._

_The item in question is a certain map. It belongs to your friend James Potter's father, Harry. To the unsuspecting eye, it looks like a plain piece of parchment, slightly yellowed with age. However, it is extremely important that I come to own this, and I need you to steal it. Harry Potter will, no doubt, keep it close, or perhaps locked up somewhere. If you must know what it is called, I shall tell you. It is called The Marauders Map. _

_If you are willing, come to room 38 in The Hog's Head. I'll be waiting. But, of course, there is a time limit. If you are not here by midnight of the seventh of January, with then I will get rid of your property and come to Hogwarts myself. I am sure neither of us do not want to let it come to that._

_Sincerely,_

_X._

Connor Furnell, James' friend, asks her on a date, but, as Amy likes James and Brooke likes Connor, she plans to set Brooke and Connor up during her date. Monica and Brooke realise that Amy has a mystery crush, but don't know who it is.

She serves her detention. Before her date on Saturday morning, she makes up with James, who bumps into her and Connor in Hogsmeade later on and seems surprised. They run into The Three Broomsticks when she sets Connor up with Brooke, then is taken into Prof. McGonagall's office and is told that Aaron, her youngest brother, is missing. She realises that X has him.

For the Christmas holidays, Amy goes to stay with James in order to steal the Marauder's Map. They – Amy, James, Rose, Hugo, Albus, Geoff and Lily – have a snowball fight on broomsticks, and everyone realises that Amy has a hidden talent on a broom, resulting in James giving her a Swiftshot 5000 – the best broom there is – for Christmas. She decides to trial for the Quidditch team.

Rose gets together with Geoff, making Albus jealous, and while Amy and James are talking in her bed before rudely interrupted by Geoff, James nearly kisses her.

Amy finally steals the map, then goes to the Hog's Head. She is told by X, who was waiting for her, about a Fifth Marauder, who the other four shunned because he hated the idea of Lupin's transformation every full moon (and also happened to be in Slytherin). She realises that X is Draco Malfoy, and they duel. James and the Hog's Head owner burst in, and Malfoy disapparates holding a piece of paper which he wrongly believes is the map.

The Hayweathers come and stay with the Potters for the last few nights of the Christmas holiday.

Aaron still having not been found, Amy and James have another fight over what really happened at the Hog's Head, with Amy becoming even angrier after finding out that Monica kissed James on New Year's Eve.

Amy flies off after a game of Quidditch to think in the skies. James follows her a while later, and she tells him about Aaron and X. James kisses her after telling her that Monica meant nothing to him and that he actually likes her.

Amy and James break into the Hog's Head and find Aaron, bringing him back to the Potter's. The Longbottoms are called, and they are reunited with their son.

* * *

_**So I hope that's useful! Please keep reading and I promise to keep updating! Xx**_


	19. Caught

**Caught**

There were many hugs, kisses and _thank God you're safes, _when Aaron finally emerged from my room the following morning. However, after all of this died down, the questions began. Hermione was the first to ask Amy how they had found him, at which Amy rushed off, pretending that she had an urgent Charms essay she needed to hand in when school started on the fifth, three days from now.

James soon confronted her about what to do. He was persistent that she should tell everyone why she had stolen the map, and thus, how she had found Aaron, but she disagreed.

"You know why," she said. "If they find out, everyone will think–"

"That you're not a _thief," _he cut in. "Or, not really, at least."

"But they'll know that I knew where Aaron was for ages before doing anything about it," she snapped. "I can't let them know that, especially not Aaron."

"Ron'll be fine with it," he said. "Amy, you _saved _him. He won't be angry at you for anything."

"I could've spared him days less without Malfoy," growled Amy. "If I'd just been keeping a closer eye on him in the first place–"

"Then you'd be doing what my parents do with the Marauders Map," he finished. "Spying on us. No one likes that, least of all Aaron."

"I still can't tell anyone, and I'll duel you if you do," she challenged.

"Is that a threat?" He was grinning, now.

James looped one arm around her waist and pulled her closer. Amy glanced around the kitchen, making sure no one was around, before melting into him. He kissed her on the mouth for a few minutes of absolute bliss, before he drew away.

"So?" he asked. "Are you going to tell anyone?"

"No," she said firmly. "And don't think kissing me is going to make me change my mind, because it won't."

"Fine," he said laughingly. "But I disagree. I think it will. Or at least, _not _kissing you will."

She soon found out what this cryptic statement meant, for whenever they were alone and she swooped in to plant a kiss on his lips, he dodged her, chuckling. By the morning of the fifth of January, this was beyond her. She wanted more than anything to kiss him, and he knew it, but she was not going to tell anyone about X. In her desperation, Amy finally confided in Brooke while the latter was packing, without telling her about the map and X.

"I knew it!" she burst out. "Monica and I always thought you two would make the cutest couple."

"_Shh,"_ hissed Amy cautiously. "You can't tell anyone, okay?"

"So," said Brooke eagerly, leaning closer to me. "Have you told him that you like him?"

"Uh, yes," she said.

"When?" she burst out.

"D'you remember when I went flying off after the Quidditch match in the drawing room? And James flew after me?" she began. Brooke nodded fervently. "Well, he kissed me, and I'm sure you heard about that, because – well – you, Geoff and Mon kind of overheard our conversation about it."

"Go on," said Brooke.

"And ever since we've been…" she dropped her voice. "Sneaking around."

"Wow," she breathed.

"But recently," continued Amy, "He's been avoiding my kisses as a sort of joke, because he wants me to tell – to _do _something that I won't do. So, Brooke, what do I do?"

She furrowed her eyebrows, suddenly looking worried. "Is he pressurising you to–"

"God, no," she hurriedly interrupted. "Nothing like that. He wants me to tell everyone … a secret."

"Do I know this secret?" she asked.

Amy shook my head, flushing. Brooke smiled.

"Well, I don't have to know," she said, shrugging cheerfully. "If you don't want to tell anyone, and it's important to you, I don't want to know. Besides, it's probably not going to benefit me in any way, either."

This, in a nutshell, was what Amy liked most about Brooke.

Brooke beamed. _"And?"_

She stared, confused. "And what?"

"Do you _love _him?" she asked.

She said it in a way that was neither teasing nor demanding, in a tone that didn't at all make Amy uncomfortable at all. But the question itself – that was what shook her. She thought about it for a moment, about _him, _and then she knew.

"Yes," she whispered. "I love him."

"Does he love you?" she asked.

"I don't know," replied Amy. "We've never said anything about…"

"Love?" prompted Brooke. Amy nodded. "Well, why don't you tell him that you love him? Then say that if he loves you back, he should understand, and that he shouldn't pursue the whole thing any further. Right?"

Amy grinned, getting to her feet. "Thanks, Brooke. Thank you so much."

* * *

She found James in the kitchen, shovelling down mouthfuls of pecan pie while at the same time scrawling down the correct method to extract the juice from Venomous Tentacula leaves and their function. He glanced upwards as he caught sight of her entering, his hand still moving quickly across the page.

"Last minute working," she said approvingly, noting that they were alone together. "We're leaving in about an hour."

He grinned. "Blabbering, actually. Run out of things to say, so I'm just making stuff up. Pretty convincing, though. Listen to this: in 1542, Herbert Shockleby – _obviously _a made up name – drank fifteen pints of Tentacula juice every day for a week, and, as a result, his stomach exploded and he died. Although Tentacula juice usually only turns a victim slightly purple and only creates a _sensation _of burning, Shockleby was more susceptible, as–"

"Sounds great," interrupted Amy. "You _might _get a few marks for that."

He chuckled. "I don't actually care, as long as it's done. I can't afford another detention, what with Quidditch try-outs coming up."

She walked slowly over to him, her heart suddenly pounding harder and faster than ever. She had rehearsed the words over and over again in her head and in front of her mirror, but being here now, with him sitting in close her, she felt somewhat mortified. She pulled up the chair on his left and sat down. He set his quill down, looking up at her, still grinning.

"So," he said. "Are you thinking of–"

"I love you," she blurted, before turning a horrible shade of vermilion.

Her entire speech had vanished from her mind the moment she sat down, and those three words just slipped out.

"I'm sorry," she amended quickly. "I didn't mean – well, actually I _did, _but if you don't, you know, that's fine, too. I don't mind if you–"

He was staring at her, utterly taken aback. Then, slowly, his expression softened, and he burst out laughing. The colour in Amy's cheeks deepened. She knew this hadn't been a good idea, and now… now he was laughing at her.

"Amy," he chuckled, tears in his eyes. "You've no idea just how long I've been waiting for you to say that."

She scowled. "Why's it so funny?"

"Because… I was literally _just _about to say the same thing," he replied, grinning wider than ever "I love you too, Ames."

The words finally set in, and her eyes widened. "Really? I mean, are you sure?"

He slipped two hands behind her neck, pulling her closer until their foreheads rested against one another. Amy's heart thudded painfully inside her chest. Then, agonizingly slowly, he moved his lips closer to hers. At the last moment, he swerved away and pecked her on the cheek. She felt her frustration boil up inside her, bubbling over.

"James, I'm so tired of this – this _game!" _she all but bellowed. "I need you to understand me. If you love me, you should understand why I don't want to say anything!"

He contemplated this for a long moment, before finally nodding. "At least – at least tell my dad. Just him, no one else. He has a right to know."

Amy thought long and hard about this, before mumbling yes, hoping that with this, it would all end. James looked overjoyed.

"Thank God," he exhaled, relieved. "You've no idea how painful these past three days have been. I've been thinking about this non-stop for too long."

Then he took her head again, the same as before, but much, much more ardently, dropping two, three, four, five light kisses on and around her mouth, before crushing her lips in a fiery, all-consuming kiss, so diverting that the two of them didn't hear the footsteps creaking as they came down the steps, the squeak of someone's shoes falter on the kitchen floor. The only thing that finally made them spring apart was Monica's voice, deafening, wounded, shocked.

"_What _is going on?"

* * *

_**So... reviews, anyone?**_


	20. The Hogwarts Express

**The Hogwarts Express**

"I – er – Monica," began James, glancing from her to Amy, then back again. "Hi."

Monica stormed towards the two of them, her glare fixed solidly on Amy.

"Mon," said Amy, finally finding her own voice. "I'm so sorry."

"I can't believe it," she hissed. "How long have you two been going behind my back? Amy – _you _have someone else you like."

"No," she hurriedly said. "No, you don't understand."

"Oh, I understand," she scoffed. "I understand very well. Amy, I don't _believe _this. You and him? I bet you were having a real laugh laughing at me behind my back."

"No," said Amy desperately. "James, back me up!"

"She's right," he said. "We never once laughed at you, Monica. And I just kissed you because it was New Year's – I didn't want a relationship!"

It was at that moment that Brooke rushed down the stairs, darted in front of her sister, and planted both of her hands flat on her shoulders.

"Monica," she said. "They're right."

James shot a confused look at Amy. Her spirits suddenly lifted, and she muttered a quick prayer thanking Merlin that she had told Brooke about the two of them.

"What – did you _know?" _burst out Monica, looking utterly betrayed. "Brooke, _you knew?"_

"Yes," she snapped. "I knew, because Amy was so worried and _hated _herself for doing it when she knew that you would be like this if you found out. She told me because she needed to. The mystery crush? It was always him, Mon. They're in love."

Monica was floored. "Love? _Love?"_

Amy had no idea what to say. James, however, simply nodded.

"I'm sorry if we hurt you," he said, "But it's true. I'm in love – and always have been – with Amy."

"Don't you remember how we always used to pair them off as a would-be cute couple?" asked Brooke. "It was always them. James and Amy."

Monica, flabbergasted, looked away, suddenly humbled. "I'm… sorry. I got in your way, not the other way around."

"No," burst out Amy. "Mon, you're my friend. This was just a huge misunderstanding. Please believe me."

She smiled slowly, swallowed. "I do believe you, Ames. I'm really, truly sorry. I wish you two every happiness."

Then, choking back tears of humiliation, she turned on her heel and sprinted back up the stairs.

The silence she left was interrupted moments later by Ginny calling, "Come on, everyone!"

It was time to go back to Hogwarts.

* * *

Brooke, James and Amy sat in an empty compartment of the Hogwarts Express, while Monica was nowhere to be seen. When James asked Brooke where she was, Brooke shrugged and said that she was with some other friends of hers from Hufflepuff. James' hand curled around Amy's comfortingly, and she looked up at him.

All of a sudden, he door slid open, and Connor Furnell, Declan Morrison and David Lee – three good friends of James', the latter of whom was in Ravenclaw, stumbled into their compartment, yelling colourful insults back at a cluster of rowdy Slytherins.

"Yeah, you'd better!" Declan was shouting. "You pile of Doxy droppings!"

"Sure you're not talking about your mother, Morrison?" jeered Crystal Marmingston, the Slytherin fifth-year who had duelled James and I last term at midnight, which had cost them one hundred and forty points.

"Yeah," chipped in Laurence Zabini, the son of Blaise Zabini, a good friend of Amy's attacker, Draco Malfoy. At the thought of him, she shuddered. Where was he now? "I've heard your Mudblood mother smells like them, too."

Declan lunged for him; David snapped one muscular arm forwards to hold him back. Connor reacted an instant later, grabbing his other arm.

"He's not worth it," muttered Connor.

"HE INSULTED MY MOTHER!" roared Declan. "LET ME BLOODY GO!"

It was then that Amy caught sight of Turvulus Malfoy standing beside Zabini, and her entire body contracted in shock. James, also seeing him, stood up stiffly, his jaw set in anger.

"Malfoy," he snarled.

The entire compartment (and most of the corridor outside) fell silent in astonishment at the expression on his face. Even Declan stared at him for a moment, before breaking free of David and Connor's grasp and swinging his fist at Zabini, landing a well-aimed blow to his nose. Zabini yelled, throwing himself back at Declan. The two fell to the floor at Amy's feet, punching and kicking and clawing at one another.

Malfoy and James' gazes were locked, now. Malfoy's mouth twitched into a sneer.

"Defending your girlfriend, Potter?" he scorned. "Don't deny it, I saw you two holding hands before you stood up. You've got pathetic written all over you."

Connor, hearing this, looked bewildered. "What?"

James ignored him. "I'm not going to deny it, Malfoy, because I like her, and for some strange reason, she happens to like me back."

Connor sat back, looking utterly defeated. He shook his head then shrugged at Brooke, sitting next to him. She turned crimson.

Below Amy, Declan and Zabini stopped fighting. Declan grinned.

"Well done, mate," he said.

Then, with a punch from Zabini, the fight was back in motion, although nobody seemed to be paying any attention to it. Everyone was looking intently at James, Malfoy or Amy.

"Really?" snickered Malfoy. "Oh, this is gold."

"So how's your father?" asked James coolly.

Malfoy's smirk vanished. He stepped forwards, pushing Crystal out of the way, and glared squarely back at James. Other than Amy, James and Malfoy, no one – even the Slytherins – knew of the significance behind those words. They were the only ones who knew about Draco Malfoy's attack on Amy.

"Why don't you ask Longbottom," he snapped. "The thief."

Brooke frowned. "How does he know you stole Har–"

"Longbottom's a _thief?" _chuckled Crystal. "Thieves get punishments, you know. If anyone finds out–"

With a malicious glint in her eye, she skipped out of the compartment. Some of the Slytherins followed her, leaving only Malfoy, who was still glaring at James, and Zabini, who was still fighting Declan.

There were a few minutes of utter, palpable silence.

"If any one of you tells on Amy," growled James, "Your father goes to Azkaban. The Hog's Head owner and I witnessed him duelling her, and we have the letter of blackmail he sent to her. There's a heck of a lot of evidence, and I'm sure he doesn't have a concrete alibi on where he was that day. Now get out of here before I kill you."

Amy stood up. "James... let's not fight in here, okay? If a teacher comes we're going to end up losing more points."

Malfoy's hand plunged into his pocket, drawing out his wand, but James was faster. Pointing his wand at Malfoy, he yelled, _"Everte Statum!"_

Malfoy was thrown backwards, right into a familiar figure who stood glowering down at them from underneath an extremely pointed hat.

"Why is it," began Professor McGonagall in a shrill voice, "That whenever there is trouble, you, Mr. Malfoy, you, Mr. Potter, and you, Miss Longbottom, are present?"

"Bad timing?" ventured James, glaring at the Slytherins who had followed Crystal to find a teacher and tell on Amy.

Zabini and Declan stumbled to their feet, looking anxiously at Professor McGonagall.

"Thirty points off each of you. Yes, Mr. Furnell, you, Mr. Lee and Miss Hayweather as well – and fifty for you, Morrison and Potter, Mr. Zabini for such _violent_ behaviour," she said, causing them all to groan. "And before the term has even started. Potter, Malfoy, Longbottom, if you don't start acting civilly soon, your houses will each have minus points at the end of this year. I sincerely hope your houses will forgive you, but I highly doubt it."

So saying, she swept away.

Malfoy turned and swore at his fellow Slytherins, then, grabbing Zabini, he left with one final glare at James. Connor looked outraged.

"Us?" he said. _"Us? _Brooke, David, Amy and I didn't do _anything, _and we just lost one hundred and twenty points all together!"

"Ridiculous," agreed David. "At least I'm the only Ravenclaw here."

Declan looked sheepish. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," said Amy. "I mean, James and I lost more for that stupid duelling thing last term, right?"

"Actually," said Brooke quietly. "We just lost one hundred and ninety points for Gryffindor, fifty more than you two lost combined."

"One hundred and _ninety?" _echoed Connor. "Sweet Merlin."

"It's those blasted Slytherins," growled James. "It's their fault, and Malfoy only got thirty points!"

"It's not fair," said Amy, as James turned and sat back down next to her, fuming.

Connor looked at them. She knew exactly what was coming next.

"So," he said. "You two?"

James went red, and Amy knew that what had sounded bold and valiant to him when he was speaking to Malfoy now sounded the exact opposite. In a flash, she suddenly remembered Connor asking her out, and wondered if he still liked her.

"I'm sorry, Connor," said Amy. "I know that you and I…"

He grinned. "No, 's fine. It was just a date."

"But…" began Declan. "Are you sure, mate? This is _Amy._"

Amy glared at him, and he shut up.

James nodded, suddenly looking confident. "I don't just like her, I'm in love with Amy, and there's nothing you girls can do about it."

Declan, David and Connor burst out laughing. James' face fell slightly, as did Amy's. Of course the teasing would come. In a moment of spontaneity, she grabbed the back of James' head, and pulled him close, capturing his lips in a long, hard kiss. The laughing slowly subsided. James grinned against her mouth.

"So," James said, turning back to face the compartment, beaming widely. Brooke was smiling, Connor, David and Declan looked shell-shocked. "Ever been kissed like that? Ha. I thought not."

"Love?" said Connor. "Amy?"

"I love him, too," she mumbled, crimson.

"As long," Declan finally said. "As long as you don't get all lovey-dovey all the time, I'm happy for you."

Amy nodded in all seriousness. "I agree."

James elbowed me, teasing. "Ha, ha."

"Just don't tell anyone about the love thing," she burst out, imagining the jeers that would follow them in the halls if everyone knew that James Potter and Amy Longbottom were in love. "Please?"

"Of course," said Brooke. "And I'll tell Monica not to say anything, either."

Connor, Declan and David nodded their agreement. James looked somewhat relieved, and Amy was glad that he was thinking on the same lines as she was. He had no desire to be sneered at, either.

"Just… stop kissing like that in front of us," David said. "It makes us all depressed, especially Connor here."

Amy smiled, glancing at Brooke. "I'm sure the girl for Connor's under his nose, he just doesn't know it yet."

She blushed furiously, while everyone else looked terribly confused.

Amy beamed, reaching for James' hand once more. Everything was slowly falling into place.


	21. Try Outs

**Try-Outs**

Word quickly spread about James and Amy going out, although hardly any knew just how much they liked one another, and despite the fact that the whole of Gryffindor were sour about the one hundred and ninety point loss – on top of their one hundred and forty point loss from the term before– finishing last with minus points, each and every one of them seemed to find it in their hearts to congratulate them. Even better, it turned out that the Slytherins had not breathed a word to Professor McGonagall about Amy being a thief, instead simply saying to her, "Professor, would you come with us, please?" most likely intending to tell her when they reached the compartment. Amy learnt this from Rose Weasley, who was nearby at the time.

The next morning, having Charms, as she filed into the classroom with James and Brooke, she went flying as Malfoy innocently stuck his foot out in her way.

"Malfoy," growled James threateningly, brandishing his wand.

Professor Flitwick, who was ageing more every day, shrieked his disapproval.

"Mr. Potter!" he said shrilly. "Not in class! Miss Longbottom, please, _please_, find a chair and sit down – there, now. As you all know, the Ordinary Wizarding Levels are almost upon us, and so, may I offer you a word of advice. Practice, practice, _practice! _For your OWL's you will be expected to know how to use the Summoning Charm, _Accio, _and although I am sure many of you know how to do it, I would like for us to simply practice. Practice makes perfect. Now repeat after me, _Accio!"_

"Longbottom, why don't you use that to get your broom," suggested Malfoy. "Like he said, practice makes perfect, although in your case... Well. If you really want to get yourself killed by trying out, then don't bother, but I'm sure we'd all like to see you make a fool of yourself."

Amy felt her anger slowly boiling up. How had he known she was trying out?

"Your brother Geoff," he said, as if reading her mind. "He's been telling the whole school you're _amazing _and trying out. Though I never knew you to have your brother singing your praises to make up for everything else."

Amy scowled. Did he never stop trying to infuriate certain Gryffindors?

"Mr. Malfoy," said Professor Flitwick. "Would you care to demonstrate with this teapot?"

"Gryffindor try-outs are held two days from now, if I'm not mistaken," he went on, Summoning the teapot with a lazy flick of his wand. "We'll all be there. Wouldn't miss it for the _world._"

And so, for the next two days, Amy suffered jibes and jeers from every member of Slytherin, as well as some from other houses, and was even subjected to the occasional questioning remark from someone in Gryffindor ("Are you _sure _you want to do it, Amy?"), and, unless there was a teacher present, she fired back with one comeback or another. When the day came, however, she was terrified.

"Don't worry, Ames, you'll do great," said Geoff, as they stepped onto the pitch with all the other Gryffindor hopefuls.

Scanning the crowd – there was indeed a crowd –, Amy recognized the entire Slytherin house, as well as many members of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and some of Hufflepuff. Evidently, many were interested in watching her make a fool of myself.

"Good luck, Amy!" shouted Monica from the half of the crowd that was not dominated by Slytherins. She had warmed to both her and James after three days of mulling things over, and swore that she wouldn't say anything about them being in love, whether under torture or not. Although Amy doubted it would ever come to that, she was thankful to have her friend back.

"A _Swiftshot?" _came the unmistakable yell of Crystal Marmingston, as Dan McMillan, Gryffindor captain, stepped forwards to address us. "How'd you get the money to afford that, Longbottom?"

The Slytherins roared with laughter. The other half of the crowd, although they had teased Amy slightly as well, were much more forgiving and didn't at all – in most cases – mean it in a malicious manner, and now all of them were glowering at the Slytherins. Some were even throwing things at them.

A vein throbbed in McMillan's head.

"OI!" he bellowed. "WE'RE TRYING TO HAVE A PRACTICE HERE! IF YOU WON'T QUIETEN DOWN AND STOP ACTING LIKE ANIMALS – ESPECIALLY YOU, SLYTHERINS – I'LL GET PROFESSOR JOHNSON TO EAT YOU ALIVE! AND THEN I'LL GET HER TO MAKE YOU ALL LEAVE!"

They quietened down. Even the Slytherins, for, Amy assumed, they wanted to watch her fail. This made her even more determined not to.

"As you all know," said McMillan, turning to face them, "Felicity Hunter, Nadia Klein and Larry Smith can't be part of the Gryffindor team anymore, because of injuries, moving country and bloody Wizard's Chess Club, so that's why you're all here. And, even though some of you were on the team last term, this doesn't guarantee you a position."

The latter half of his speech was addressed to James, Geoff and Declan, who, with McMillan, were the only remaining members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"Right," said McMillan. "Let's fly."

He made them fly around the pitch once, while following instructions he yelled out to them. Geoff was first, swerving and dodging invisible Bludgers and players as advised by McMillan, then flying backwards and diving. Half of the group looked petrified by this point, and ten first-and-second-years were sent away after this first trial. When Amy's turn came, she rolled up my sleeves, trying to appear much more confident than she actually was.

"Right, Amy," said McMillan. "I want you to fly straight for half the pitc–"

"Dan!" cut in James. "Don't be like that; I'm serious, Amy's _good."_

"Just 'cause you're her bloody boyfriend," muttered McMillan. "All right, then, for a quarter of the pitch, then fly – erm – _try _flying backwards for a bit. I'll tell you what else to do after that."

Amy swung one leg over her broom, attempting to ignore the shouts that had risen from the Slytherins, and flew into the air. She glanced downwards, and saw that McMillan was actually surprised that she had made it thus far. Looking at the crowd, she realised that they, too, wore the same bewildered expression. Scowling, she pressed herself down into the broomstick and urged it forwards, shooting around a quarter of the pitch, before bringing herself to a smooth halt. Next, Amy sped backwards, glancing down once more. McMillan's jaw had dropped open.

"What next?" she shouted.

"Er… DIVE!" he roared back.

Amy smiled. She would show them more than just a simple dive.

Gripping her broom tightly, she coaxed it upwards, going further, further, further, until the Quidditch pitch was a tiny green oval beneath her and she could barely see the Gryffindor hopefuls on the pitch. She allowed herself one second to breathe in and out, enjoying the feel of the breeze, then turned herself so that she faced the ground, instead of the sky, and, with her broom and body completely vertical, she plummeted.

At the very last moment, Amy veered away from the ground. Grinning widely, she slowed down and landed two feet away from McMillan's stunned face.

"So," she said, panting slightly. "Am I allowed to progress onto the next stage of this try-out, or are you going to send me away like some of the others?"

McMillan cleared his throat. "I… er… You can stay."

James, Geoff, Declan and Albus congratulated her as she surveyed the crowd. None of them were laughing anymore. She chuckled, feeling victorious, especially as she caught sight of Malfoy ushering out a group of other Slytherins, looking annoyed.

Next, McMillan split them into positions according to their preferences. No one dared challenge James and McMillan for the positions of Seeker and Keeper, thus securing their places on the team. The fifteen odd players left battled it out for the three Chaser and two Beater positions. Five wanted to be Beaters, the remaining ten Chasers.

Amy was one of the ten, and the only fifth-year.

There were six third-years, one of whom, looking nervous, was Albus, two fourth-years, Amy, and one sixth-year, who she recognised as Anora McLaggen, the daughter of Cormac McLaggen, the current Appleby Arrows' Keeper, renowned to be the most arrogant player in the British and Irish Quidditch League. Amy hoped she had not inherited this trait from her father as she sidled up to her.

"I think we can easily beat the third-years, even if one of them is a Potter," said Anora under her breath. "It's those burly fourth-years that are the problem. I think they might be too much for you, Longbottom, but give it your best shot."

It seemed Amy was wrong.

The Beaters were chosen first, and, unsurprisingly, Geoff and Declan overcame the lot. McMillan was to choose the Chasers next, and when he announced this, the Slytherins sat up straighter, exchanging more snide comments about Amy.

They were to fly through the Beaters, trying to avoid two Bludgers, then score a goal through the three hoops protected by McMillan. They were allowed three attempts each.

The third-years went first. Two took nasty Bludger hits on their first tries, and were rushed to the hospital wing by three Hufflepuff girls who stood up in the crowd and volunteered, for they were beginning to get bored of watching. Two others managed to avoid the Bludgers, but couldn't score goals. A sharp-eyed girl named Mildred Wilkins managed to score one goal, but it was Albus who excelled out of all of them, deftly dodging the Bludgers and scoring two – nearly three, before McMillan pulled off an incredible save – goals.

Finally, after the two fourth-years both scored one goal each, it was Amy's turn. As she rose into the air, the Slytherins chorused, "Fail, fail, fail, fail!"

Amy gritted her teeth. She would show them. She would make the team and make sure Turvulus Malfoy had no excuse to tease her about her Quidditch skills. From beneath her, James threw the Quaffle, and she reached out swiftly, catching it easily.

That was step one.

She took a deep breath. _Just pretend it's the snowball fight. The hoops are the targets, and the Quaffle is the snowball. Pretend Malfoy's each of the targets. Throw it in his face. _

Amy exhaled slowly.

"I'm ready," she said.

Like before, she leant into the broom and pressed it forwards. Geoff's Bludger came hurtling towards me, and she dipped slightly to the left to avoid it, barely changing her course. Moments later, Declan's Bludger came straight for her.

Amy grinned. She had skimmed through a Quidditch Tactics' book in the library the day before, just in case, and knew exactly what to do.

It was just a matter of if she could pull it off or not.

She swung her entire body around, so that she hung upside down on her broomstick, as the Bludger shot past.

The crowd (or at least, half of it) erupted into applause, some members of it even roaring their approval. _("A Sloth Grip Roll? _Longbottom's _GOOD!_")

Amy turned so she was sitting upright again, then, faking a quick left, she flung the Quaffle with all her might at the right hoop, where she envisioned Malfoy's face.

It went through.

Amazingly, Amy managed to score two more goals, to more applause from half of the crowd and the Slytherins miserably leaving. James hugged her excitedly as she landed, telling her that she had definitely made it on the team and that she had astounded McMillan. After that, Amy was barely aware of anything, she was so relieved.

The final team was this: James as Seeker, McMillan as Keeper, Albus, Anora – who had scored two goals – and Amy as Chasers, and Geoff and Declan as Beaters.

She had done it.

Amy Longbottom was on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team.


	22. Blue

**Blue**

It was as she was walking down the corridor from Divination when someone pinched Amy's arm. She yelped, jerking her arm upwards, completely surprised.

"Who just pinched me?" she demanded, surveying the terrified group of Hufflepuff first-years, the only other people who appeared to be in the corridor with me.

Amy sighed. "Sorry, it was probably just my imagination."

They shot away, probably thanking Merlin that she hadn't blamed them, for, ever since her appointment to the team, most of the first-years had become frightened to death of her, and the other students simply seemed to have a newfound respect for her.

"Longbottom," came a sharp voice behind her.

Amy started for the second time, turning to find Malfoy's wand pointing straight at her. He was glaring furiously at her, pressing his wand into the side of her face.

"Don't get your germs on me," she growled, as his wand sank painfully into my cheek. "Malfster."

He grabbed her arm, dragging her into a nearby, empty classroom and locked the door with his left hand, his wand never leaving her face.

"What're you doing?" she asked suspiciously.

"Give me your wand," he demanded.

"What?" she scoffed. "You've got to be – All right, all right."

He had jammed his wand further into my cheek, and she winced at the pain. Slowly, she pulled out her wand and handed it to him. He stowed it in his robes.

"You give my father what he wants," snarled Malfoy. "Hand it over, Longbottom."

Amy instantly understood that this was about the Marauder's Map.

"Or else what?" she sneered. "You're going to go crying to your Slytherin pals?"

"No," he spat. "I'm going to snap your wand."

Amy flinched. "You wouldn't dare. They can track that kind of thing by seeing the wand, you know that. They'd know it was you."

"I've got no intention of leaving the wand lying about," he retorted. "I'll probably just chuck it into the lake or Transfigure it into something."

"I don't even have the thing, anyway," she said. "So there's no point to this."

He pulled out her wand, turning it through his fingers. "Well, then."

"No!" she burst out. "You can't! Isn't there anything else you want me to do for you to give me back my wand? I might consider something other than thievery. If you have a detention, I'll do it for you. I'll do your work for a week! Come on, Malfoy, you can't snap my wand."

Malfoy considered it for a long moment, before breaking into a slow smile.

"What is it?" asked Amy.

"For the first time in years, the Slytherin–Gryffindor match is the last match of the season, rather than the first," he said. "Play badly, Longbottom. Embarrass yourself. Afterwards, if I think you didn't do badly enough, your wand's history."

She drew back. Public humiliation or no wand? On the one hand, Quidditch was quickly becoming an important part of her life and to let Gryffindor down, when she had lost so many points on their behalf… However, on the other hand, she had had her wand for years and doubted her parents would take well to paying for another. They expected her to be responsible with her belongings, especially her wand.

"Of course," continued Malfoy, "I will be keeping your wand until the match is over."

"But the match is two months from now!" she burst out. "Nearly three, even! It's in _May, _Malfoy! And it's right before O.W.L.'s! I need my wand to revise!"

"Well," he smirked, "You could always just give my father back what he wants and none of this would be necessary."

He unlocked the door with a wave of his wand, and left, looking enormously pleased with himself.

She couldn't be without a wand for the next two – almost three – months, especially with exams so soon.

Of course, the next time she saw James, she told him. He would know what to do.

"You are _not _playing badly against Slytherin," he said firmly. "We're winning every match. We already beat Ravenclaw last term. Next month, we'll beat Hufflepuff, and then we'll win the cup. That's the plan."

"But what about my _wand?" _she said. "What do I do?"

"We steal it back," he said. "The next Quidditch match is Slytherin against Ravenclaw, which is in a week's time. We'll try around then."

"A week?" Amy echoed. "I have to go a week without my wand? In all of our lessons we'll be _using _our wands, James! We have our O.W.L.'s soon! It's got to be earlier."

James nodded. "Then it'll be easy. All I need to do is use 'Accio'."

"I'm sure he's already thought of that," she muttered, but watched hopefully as he tried it in vain.

"He's obviously stowed it in a place where it can't physically get out," said James. "Merlin, he's annoying. Right. Let's get Gryffindor on our side."

Amy soon learned what he meant by this.

James spread the word about Malfoy having stolen her wand and trying to trade it for her playing badly against them. The very thought of Gryffindor losing against Slytherin and their disgust at Malfoy made sure no one needed convincing to help. Each Gryffindor, as well as a number of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, swore to do whatever they could to make sure Amy had her wand back as soon as possible.

In the meantime, she had to struggle through lessons, mumbling excuses about having snapped it in two by accident.

"But this is _impossible!" _Professor McGonnagall crowed. "Miss Longbottom, if this is a joke…"

"It's not," Amy assured her miserably, staring at the mouse that she was supposed to be transfiguring.

"Five points," said Professor McGonnagall stiffly, to Amy's utter horror.

"But, Profess–"

"You must learn to take your schoolwork seriously," she instructed. "I am here to teach you about Transfiguration. However, if you do not have a wand, I cannot help you at all. For now, you shall watch everyone else."

Each of her teachers' reactions were similar to Professor McGonnagall's, and Amy lost points to each, having to explain her excuse over and over again. Only Hagrid was different.

"I was practicing the Aguamenti charm a bit too vigorously," she told him. "I'm sorry, Hagrid, it was an accident."

"You want to know what actually happened?" muttered Connor.

Hagrid eyed him suspiciously. "Wha'?"

"Nothing, nothing," said Connor quickly.

"Nothing is right."

Amy turned to see Malfoy walking past, smirking at them. She felt her anger boil up inside her, and clenched her jaw to stop herself from letting slip with some form of retort.

"Gone and broken your wand, Longbottom?" taunted Malfoy. "That's not very clever. But then again, you aren't, are you?"

"Malfoy," said Hagrid sharply. "Don' yer go talkin' like that."

"Or what, you big oaf?" scoffed Malfoy. "Can you hurry up and get this lesson over with?"

"Don' worry about yer wand, Amy," said Hagrid kindly.

* * *

Even though Amy was unable to participate fully in any of her lessons, she found the week pass by quickly. Before she knew it, it was Saturday morning, the day of the match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, and she still had not retrieved her wand. This wasn't to say, however, that no one had tried. Many had attacked Malfoy and demanded a return of Amy's wand, whereupon either a teacher had appeared and sentenced the attacker to detention, or Malfoy had duelled and beaten them. A group of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs had even tried to ambush Malfoy in Hogsmeade, but as they were mainly made up of third-years, Malfoy and the other Slytherin fifth-years he was with had them running off quickly. Amy was grateful of all of this, especially of Aaron and his best friend, Louie, who, with the gleeful help of Peeves and a gargantuan box of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, followed Malfoy in any free time they had, throwing handfuls of joke objects wherever he went. Peeves, for one, even followed him straight for the past three days.

Amy rolled out of bed, to see Brooke pulling on a dark blue jumper and woolly hat. Monica wore a dress of the same colour, and when she caught sight of Amy's quizzical expression, she explained.

"Ravenclaw against Slytherin today," she reminded, smiling. "I, for one, am going to do everything I can to remind the Slytherins that no one likes them."

Brooke smiled weakly. "I was forced."

Amy chuckled, and rummaged in her own trunk to see if there was anything blue there. Finally finding a midnight blue scarf, which would have to do, she wound it twice around her neck, and made her way downstairs with the twins.

"Jeans?" hissed Monica, as they entered the Great Hall. "Amy, would you care to explain why you're wearing _jeans?"_

"They're comfy?" suggested Amy. "And… and blue."

"Brooke here is trying to impress Connor," she went on. "And so, _voil__à__, _she is wearing a skirt. Have you forgotten entirely about James? Who you claim to _love? _Oh, sweet Merlin. You're a lost cause, Amy, you are."

Amy grinned, as she caught sight of James himself. "_James _is wearing jeans."

Monica stared at her, incredulous. "Would you _prefer _it if we wore a skirt?"

"I'm sure I would," laughed Amy.

"At least _I _look nice," said Monica. "A dress wouldn't go unnoticed for you, either, Amy."

"Thanks, Mon, but it's January and it's freezing today," replied Amy. "I'll probably be cold in this, and _I'm _covered up."

"Fashion is pain," said Monica with a smile.

They sat down next to Declan, Connor and James, and dug into breakfast. The three boys, too, wore traces of blue, as did the entire Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw houses.

"You look nice," commented Declan to Monica, sitting beside him. "I like your dress."

"Thank you," said Monica sweetly, shooting a meaningful glance at Amy.

Amy grinned and observed them. Monica was munching at an apple – a red one; no Gryffindor had touched the green kind today – and Declan looked as though Christmas had come early for him. It struck her at once. Evidently, he was one of half the school's male population that was in love with Monica Hayweather, and with her sitting beside him...

"Ravenclaw look pretty nervous," said James.

Amy looked up, searching for each member of the Ravenclaw team. "Yeah, they do…"

She wondered for a brief moment how nervous she would be when it was her turn.

"You'll be fine," assured James quickly, as if reading her mind. "You wont be nervous at all. You'll do great."

"But what if I play _awfully?" _

"You won't," he promised. "You think McMillan would've made you part of the team if he didn't think so?"

It was at that moment that someone tapped Amy's shoulder so hard that she winced.

"_What?" _she demanded, wheeling around.

And there stood Turvulus Malfoy, glaring down at her.

"Come with me, Longbottom," he snapped. "We need to talk."


	23. Food Fight

**Food Fight**

Half of the Gryffindors were now staring at Malfoy, who kept his glare fixed on Amy.

"What's this about, Malfoy?" said James.

"None of your concern, Potter," Malfoy shot back.

"Are you giving her wand back?" asked Monica, setting her apple core down on her plate, where it vanished.

"Tired of Peeves?" chuckled Declan. "That reminds me. Where _is _Peeves? I thought he was supposed to be tailing you. Shall I give him a shout-out?" Malfoy paled as Declan bellowed, "PEEVES!"

A translucent head popped around the door of the Great Hall, and, as Peeves caught sight of Malfoy, his eyes glinted. Cackling wildly, he shot towards the Gryffindor table.

"Good morning, good morning, good morning," he chanted, shaking hands with several students on his way to Malfoy. "Ah. My dear friend."

"Peeves," growled Malfoy. "Aren't you tired of this?"

"The question is, m'boy, are _you _tired of this?" said Peeves. "Now, Turvulus, have you given this lovely lady her wand back? Renemell Petal and willow, if I'm not mistaken."

"That's right," said Amy. "And no, he hasn't."

"By the by, good luck in your match today," said Peeves, the pitch of his voice growing ever higher and his words being strung ever faster. "You shouldn't lose against Ravenclaw, they haven't a chance in hell of winning. And – oh! – I was listening in on your meeting, and, my, your tactics! Genius! Ravenclaw had better watch out for ickle Marcus Flint Jr. and Wyatt Warrington's Parkin's Pincer! And your brother holding back – genius, genius! Ooh! And Derrick and Goyle's Transylvanian Tackles! A bit naughty, but perfectly legal! You Slytherins have a lot of tricks up your sleeves, don't you?"

"Shut _up, _you idiot ghost!" snapped Malfoy. "You're giving away our tactics!"

"Oops!" said Peeves laughingly. "Well at least I didn't tell them about your hanging defence and–"

"LONGBOTTOM!" roared Malfoy. The Great Hall fell silent. "Meet me outside. Now."

He stalked out, ignoring the whispers that suddenly erupted from all around. Peeves made to follow, but Amy stopped him.

"Give us a minute," she said. "If I need you, I'll call."

Peeves' face fell. "But it's _fun."_

"Do whatever you want in here," she suggested. "Just give me a minute."

"Sounds fair," agreed Peeves, grinning mischievously.

The instant Amy stepped outside the doors of the Great Hall, they shut. This had never happened before, and she wondered if this was Hogwarts' way of giving her a few moments of privacy, away from the eyes of the rest of the school. Malfoy rounded on her.

"Longbottom," he hissed. "I want you to get your brother and Louie Mayer and that bloody ghost _away _from me!"

Amy smirked. "You really think I'm going to oblige?"

"Call them off, and I'll… I'll…"

"Give me my wand back?" she suggested.

Malfoy stepped forwards, his eyes narrowed. "Fine. But you've messed with me, and you've messed with my father. Oh – don't think he's abandoned whatever it was he wanted doing. Don't forget that, Longbottom. I'm going to be watching your every move, and I _will _destroy you."

"What're you going to do, kill me?" she scoffed.

"I'll make you wish I were that forgiving," he snapped back. "I'll make you wish you were dead. Mark my words."

He pulled out a narrow box from his jacket pocket, and tapped it with his wand, muttering, "Alohomora." The lock sprung open, and he took out my own wand, which lay inside.

"Here," he snapped, and handed Amy her wand. It lay in her palms, and she felt elation bubble up inside her. She was so happy when the doors re-opened, holding her wand firmly in her hand and watching a scene of utter mayhem unfold before her, that Malfoy's words vanished into the deepest crevices of her mind, at that moment utterly forgotten.

Peeves had taken her words to heart, it seemed. The food fight going on before them was like nothing they had ever seen before. A jam tart came flying their way, and although Amy managed to duck, Malfoy was not as fast, and it crashed into his furious face. Amy burst out laughing, and made for the Gryffindor table. On the way, she saw Peeves pouring two large jugs of orange juice onto the students below.

"This isn't _exactly _what I meant!" she shouted at him.

Peeves shrugged, his eyes gleaming.

She found Monica, Brooke, James, Connor and Declan throwing everything on the tables, which was replenished at once. She scooped up a handful of what looked like yoghurt and hurled it at James. It hit him on the back of his head, and he turned slowly, grinning.

"You, Ames, are in so much trouble," he warned.

He picked up a croissant and threw it at her; it hit her chest. Amy grabbed something from the table and ran at him, letting whatever it was fly. She collided with him moments afterwards.

"So what did Malfoy want anyway?" asked James, his arms around her.

She smiled and pulled out her wand. His eyes widened.

"I didn't expect _that!" _he exclaimed. "What did you do, threaten the giant squid on him?"

"Actually," she said, "I threatened Peeves."

She threw her own arms around his neck and pulled him close, kissing him laughingly. He staggered backwards, taken by surprise, grinning against her mouth.

"You're absolutely mad," he chuckled.

"You're going to wish you never said that," teased Amy, grabbing a muffin from underneath her and squishing it into his cheek. He shook his head, brushing away the crumbs.

"I'm going to get you, Amy Longbottom," he said, picking up a bowl of sausages.

The food fight was back in motion. But before James could empty the bowl onto Amy, Penelope Davies, the Ravenclaw Captain, stood up on the Ravenclaw table, and let out a whistle so loud that the fight stopped.

"Come _on," _moaned Peeves.

"RAVENCLAW!" she shouted. "If you haven't forgotten, we have a match to play in half an hour! I don't care if you play covered in food, as long as it doesn't stop you from moving or seeing! Just get to the changing rooms and GET OUTSIDE!"

Seven sheepish members of Ravenclaw trooped out of the Great Hall.

Ivan Zabini, the Slytherin Captain, took this opportunity to bellow the same orders at the Slytherin team.

It seemed the food fight was over as soon as it had begun. Peeves took off, mumbling something about the Potions classroom.

"Well we'd better get changed, hadn't we?" said Monica, looking slightly annoyed. "We can't go out like this."

Amy smiled reassuringly at her. "Don't worry, Mon. I'm sure we have some more blue clothes hidden away somewhere."

"See you later," said Brooke shyly to Connor. "Will you save us seats?"

"'Course," said Connor.

As they broke away, heading towards the girls' dormitories, Monica and Amy elbowed Brooke, beaming.

"Well done," congratulated Monica. "At that rate, he might ask you out soon. Maybe even in time for Valentine's Day!"

"But that's in…" began Brooke.

"Three weeks!" burst out Monica. "I know; I'm so excited. I wonder who's going to ask me to Hogsmeade. Last year it was Billy Harling, and I know everyone thinks he's so good-looking, but he _was _a bit boring, and–"

"Ever considered Declan?" asked Amy casually.

"_Declan?" _she said. "No, not at all. I never really looked at him that way, to be honest. He's not _bad looking; _he's just never asked me out. But all of this is irrelevant right now. Amy, how did it go with Malfoy?"

Amy pulled out her wand, grinning wider than ever.

"You got it?" shrieked Monica.

Now, she was looking forward to their match against Slytherin. She would help Gryffindor win, and she would revel in the frustration on Malfoy's face when it happened.


	24. Hogsmeade

**Hogsmeade**

In the Gryffindor common room sat half of Gryffindor, all of whom were annoyed that Slytherin had won, especially irritated by Turvulus Malfoy's catching of the Snitch.

"Ravenclaw were awful," said James. "They didn't stand a chance. Slytherin didn't even _need _to cheat. This means Ravenclaw have lost all their games. It also means we need to beat Hufflepuff, or our best outcome is a tie against Slytherin, unless they lose to Hufflepuff as well. But, if that happens and we still win against Slytherin, we'll tie with Hufflepuff."

"So we basically need to beat Hufflepuff _and _Slytherin in order to win," finished Geoff. "Right. Who's up for extra practice?"

McMillan stood up. "Good idea, Geoff. Gryffindor team!"

James, Amy, Declan, Albus and Anora all groaned, shooting glares at Geoff.

"Can't, Millie," said Anora, who was sitting with two other sixth-years. "I'm going out to Hogsmeade with Elliot."

"_Millie?" _echoed McMillan. "It's _McMillan!"_

"Sorry," she said, pouting. "It's our anniversary. Two months. He's already booked us a reservation at Madame Puddifoot's."

"Go, then," snarled McMillan. She walked away, chatting to her two friends. "And the rest of you? Do you have reservations at Madame Puddifoot's? James? I know you and Amy are going out. Do you want some _alone time?_ Do you want to follow McLaggen out the door?"

"Come on, Dan," said James. "Don't be like that. Besides, we're not the Puddifoot's type."

He sighed. "Sorry, sorry. It's just that bloody Anora thinks she's–"

"Then kick her off!" protested Declan. "She's not even that good, anyway!"

"She's better than the ones who didn't get in," he said. "And our next match is in a month! I don't know if that's enough time to…"

"What about that Mildred Wilkins girl?" asked Declan. "She was all right."

"She won't complain that where you're playing her doesn't give her the best angle of sunlight on her skin," commented James.

"Yeah," agreed Albus. "And Mildred really wasn't too bad."

McMillan exhaled. "Fine, I'll think about it. But for now, _is _anyone up for extra practice?"

"I am!" said Geoff willingly.

Albus nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, but I'll have to tell Louie not to wait for me."

James, Declan and Amy exchanged glances.

"We have plans," said Declan. "Sorry, Dan, but you know this is pretty late notice. We're going to Hogsmeade with Connor, Brooke and Monica. We might meet up with David – come on, you know David. David Lee, Ravenclaw? Yeah, _him – _and some other Ravenclaws, as well. Tell 'em the match wasn't too bad."

McMillan looked defeated.

"Don't look so down, Millie," teased James.

McMillan let out a strangled noise. "Anora McLaggen is, of right now, kicked off the team."

"Just for that?" asked Albus.

"Tell Wilkins she's on," said McMillan, ignoring him. "Geoff and I will meet the two of you for practice outside in ten minutes. Shame the rest of them can't make it."

"Have loads of fun, Millie," laughed James as the six of them left, James with Amy, Brooke sidling up to Connor and Monica and Declan exchanging awkward, yet curious, glances.

* * *

The Three Broomsticks was teeming with people, and they had to search the crowd to find David and the two Ravenclaws he was with, Joseph Corner and Larry Bay. All three of them had been in the match against Slytherin earlier.

"Hey!" shouted David, as he caught sight of them. "We're over here!"

Monica blushed.

"David's _so _good looking," she whispered to Amy, as they made their way across to the three Ravenclaws. "Maybe _he'll _ask me for Valentine's day."

"It's three weeks away!" said Amy.

"That hasn't stopped others," replied Monica. "I've already been asked by four people, thank you very much."

Amy sighed, as they reached the table. Would Monica ever see anything in Declan? She sat down next to David, who immediately turned and called for Madam Violet, the daughter of the recently retired Madam Rosmerta. She hurried up to the table, smiling broadly.

"What can I get you?" she asked.

"Six Butterbeers for everyone joining us," said David. "Thanks, Violet."

"That's Madam Violet to you," she replied, chuckling.

"Why?" said David. "You're not married, are you? Well, if you are, your husband's a lucky man."

She turned away, still laughing, the spitting image of a much younger version of her mother. Joseph Corner slapped his back heartily.

"You're a pathetic old flirt, you know that?" he teased.

"Just being polite," replied David with a grin. "You see, Jo, I'm still free, unbound, unlike our friend James here. But then, with Amy on his arm, it's not too much of a sacrifice."

Amy wondered if this was a compliment or not.

"At least," joked James, "I'm not a pathetic old flirt."

His hand found hers under the table, and she knew that what he really meant was that he loved her. Amy felt herself relax, and when Madam Violet returned with their second round of Butterbeers, she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

"With _Spellotape!" _finished Declan.

Everyone roared with laughter, James and David particularly. When the laughter died down, there was a brief period of silence.

"You know, we've managed to lose all our matches," mused Larry Bay.

"Every one," agreed Joseph Corner.

David threw down his Butterbeer against the surface of the table. "And that match against Slytherin…"

"Bloody awful," said Declan. "No offence."

"_You_ played brilliantly, though, David," piped up Monica. "And Larry and Joseph, you too."

"Very well," said Brooke, smiling comfortingly.

"You'd better beat them," said Joseph Corner. "We're counting on you to make them look as bad as we did today."

"You've got a good team," said David. "I went to your try-outs."

"Like the rest of the school did," grumbled Amy.

"No, but Amy, you were _good," _argued David. "No one expected you to be. Remember first year?"

Amy remembered it only too well. It had been their first Quidditch lesson, and Amy had fallen off her broomstick while still planted firmly on the ground. Taking a deep breath, she had remounted it, kicked off like everyone else, flew for three seconds and then flipped off her broom, falling, again, flat on her face. Since then, she had avoided the sport as much as possible. It had been almost as bad as the Red Caps incident.

"Your fall… that was hilarious," laughed Monica.

"Thanks," said Amy drily.

Slowly, the people in the inn began to thin, and by the time they had finished their forth Butterbeers, they felt it was time for them, too, to leave. They split the cost by nine, paid, and trudged outside. A typical January, frost crunched underfoot and an icy breeze bit at any part of skin left exposed. Amy shivered.

"Hey, Ames," said a familiar voice, and James was on her left, grinning down at her. "Look over there."

She turned her head in the direction he had indicated, and saw Connor talking to Brooke, whose cheeks were a deep shade of vermillion. Near them, in a large group, were Declan, Monica and the three Ravenclaws.

"Does Declan really like Monica, or is it just..." began Amy.

"He likes her," chuckled James. "I really wish he'd do something about it, though."

"Monica's hoping David will ask her to be his valentine," she said. "So if he wants to do something, he needs to do it fast."

"Valentine's Day's weeks from now!" exclaimed James.

"Yeah," said Amy. "That's what I said."

"Oh, but while we're on the topic," he said hastily, "Will _you _be my valentine?"

Amy grinned. "Hmm... Not sure. You know, you're not really my type and I–"

James punched her lightly on the arm, laughing. "Shut up, Ames."

"All right, all right," she sighed. "I'll let you take me out on Valentine's Day."

He dug his hands into his pockets. "Isn't it strange that we're – you know – going out? To me, I see you as my best friend, who I'm in love with, rather than, well, my girlfriend."

"I see what you mean," agreed Amy. "But… if I _wasn't _your girlfriend, could we do this?"

She looped her arms around the back of his neck and kissed him softly on the lips. Amy drew away, smiling.

"You're right," he said. "But I think I preferred it when it was just between you and me, rather than with everyone knowing."

"Agreed," said Amy. "But here's a plan. Let's set Brooke and Connor up, and Monica and Declan, too. Then we won't be the only couple."

"Couple," groaned James. "That's another word I hate."

"Come on, boyfriend," laughed Amy, linking her hand in his and dragging him forwards. "Let's get back to Hogwarts. Oh – and sometime, you've got to teach me that move your dad taught you. The Wonky something?"

"Wronski Feint," corrected James, shaking his head. "And you call yourself a Quidditch player?"

* * *

When they had returned to Hogwarts, James, Amy and Declan picked up their brooms and headed to the pitches, deciding that it would only be fair to join the rest of the team - save Anora, of course - in their Quidditch practice, only to find McMillan, Geoff and Albus shouting at the Slytherin team.

"But you've already _played _Quidditch today!" spluttered McMillan.

Ivan Zabini, the Slytherin Captain, yanked the Quaffle from between McMillan's hands. "We've booked the pitch."

"No you haven't!" roared Geoff.

"Got two third-years backing you up, McMillan?" sneered Wyatt Warrington, a fifth-year whom Amy had always known to be unpleasant and domineering.

"OI!" shouted Declan. The two teams turned. McMillan looked relieved as he caught sight of the three of them.

"Actually," said James loudly, striding over with Amy and Declan by his side, "he's got us, too."

"Well, well, well," smirked Zabini. "Potter and Morrison to the rescue with this… Merlin, McMillan. I always knew your choices were terrible, but Longbottom? She's got a reputation. Even _I've _heard about the first year incident."

Amy felt rage bubble up inside her. "That was four years ago!"

"And have you played any Quidditch since?" sneered Zabini.

She drew back. "Well… no, but that's not relevant, is it? What's relevant is that _you _need to get off the pitch."

"I wouldn't use that tone of voice with me, Longbottom," he snapped. "Even though your father's a teacher of mine, I'm a prefect, being Quidditch Captain. And so, I can deduct points at my leisure… Don't want to lose even more points for Gryffindor than you already have, do you?"

"In case you haven't forgotten," snarled McMillan, "I'm a prefect too."

Zabini sighed. "Just give us the pitch, McMillan, and no one gets hurt."

"Hurt?" repeated McMillan angrily. _"Hurt? _What're you going to do, release your Beaters on us?"

Zabini smirked. "I'm sure our Beaters would love to take on yours."

The two Slytherin Beaters, Simon Goyle and Vincent Derrick, smiled widely, and Geoff and Declan glared back at them.

"This is ridiculous," said McMillan. "So you'd better leave, otherwise I'm calling Professor Johnson to kick you out."

"She favours you, 'cause you're in Gryffindor like she was," said Zabini. "But that's not _playing fair, _is it?"

"Like you ever play fair," muttered Declan.

"Geoff, go get her," growled McMillan, glowering at Zabini.

Zabini sniggered, raising up his hands in mock-surrender.

"Fine," he sneered. "We'll go, we'll go. But don't think this is going to help you beat us. We're the best team in the school. Your team is just the weirdest mixture of Gryffindors."

The Slytherin team turned to leave, but Turvulus Malfoy remained behidn, hurrying up to Amy. He leaned into her ear; she stood stock still, frozen with shock.

"Sorry Ames," he said. "See you later?"

Then he sprinted to catch up with his team, leaving the Gryffindors staring with confusion at Amy. James, especially, looked beyond himself.

"Did he just call you... _Ames?" _he hissed, glaring at her.

Amy nodded slowly. "I… I think so."

She turned her head to watch Malfoy leave the pitch, wondering what in the hell he was up to.


End file.
